


Empty Spaces

by Cocoon02



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ben Haunts Rey, Ben Solo is a soft boi, Fluff, Ghost Ben, Hurt/Comfort, No Creepy Stuff Though, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22176460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cocoon02/pseuds/Cocoon02
Summary: Poe Dameron pulled into the driveway of the old Solo house. Sticks snapped under the tires of his truck, weak and brittle from the summer heat. He stopped just before the garage, which seemed to be in pretty good condition considering how long the place had been abandoned...Ten years after tragedy, the ghost of Ben Solo is awakened by a new resident to his home, Rey. While struggling to make sense of his own existence, he finds strength through her and together they try to figure out how to interact as living human and ghost.
Relationships: Finn/Rose Tico, Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 11
Kudos: 47





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [avidvampirehunter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/avidvampirehunter/gifts).



Poe Dameron pulled into the driveway of the old Solo house. Sticks snapped under the tires of his truck, weak and brittle from the summer heat. He stopped just before the garage, which seemed to be in pretty good condition considering how long the place had been abandoned.

He stepped out of the truck and walked slowly up to the porch, surveying his next project with his hands in his back pockets. It definitely needed some work. He’d have to replace the windows, and the whole place would need a paint job, inside and out. The electrical work was probably completely shot, and he didn’t even want to _think_ about the plumbing a second sooner than he had to.

Poe dug the keys out of his back pocket. His friend Rey had hired him to fix up the house with the money she’d saved buying this dump (of course it also helped that he’d given her a discount, she didn’t have much). He had a year to make the house livable for her, that’s all the time she could give him before she had to move out of her current place. He wished he could get it done faster, but he was mostly a one-man team.

The door to the house creaked loud enough to spook some birds. That would have to be oiled before anything else, he was not going to listen to that sound a million times a day when he needed to get a different tool, or more supplies, or any other reason. He’d probably end up replacing the door, but in the meantime, he’d make his own life a little easier.

His first step into the house was the first step the floorboards had seen in well over a decade. Poe was hesitant to go beyond that first step, once he got inside. There were… rumors about this house, and everyone knew what had happened here.

When Poe was little, Mr. and Mrs. Solo had been murdered in their living room, and their young son—younger than him—had vanished. The parents had been shot, and the father stabbed for good measure. No one knew what happened to the son. Some people thought that he had killed his own parents and took off. Some swore that he had been murdered, too, body dragged off into the nearby woods, never to be seen again. A few characters would swear that the son had changed shape to escape the fate of his parents and that one day he would return. His body was never found, alive or dead.

No matter what happened, the house had been abandoned after the parents’ funeral, and Rey would be the first person to be living there since the incident. No one else was willing to buy the place, but Rey was desperate to leave her apartment and get away from her creepy, horrible landlord. She’d just move apartments, but the landlord owned almost all the housing she could afford in town, and a house seemed like the only option.

“Hello?” Poe called into the empty house. There was no answer, of course, but he had to try. There had been rumors of creepy stuff happening here, mostly from kids who dared each other to run up to the porch and back. Shadows in the windows, thuds from the inside, typical ghost stories.

He didn’t see any ghosts, just a lot of cobwebs, spiderwebs, and rotting furniture. He forgot his flashlight in the truck, so he used his phone to look around the house. More cobwebs, mountains of dust. Mold in a few places. Everything was gross, but it seemed structurally sound. Maybe he wouldn’t have to do as much work as the outside made it look.

Poe poked around the first floor before making his way upstairs, where the bedrooms were. Nearly every stair creaked under his weight, and it made the hairs on his arms stand on end.

“Knock it off.” He muttered, looking both ways down the upstairs hallway like it was a road he had to cross. “Nothing here but spiders.”

The parents’ room looked just like he’d expected it to. Everything screamed “older couple,” from the bedspread to the faded, chipping paint on the walls. But it was creepier than the rest of the house. Maybe it was because the bed was made, or because there were still valuables lying around. The father’s watch, mother’s jewelry. He’d have to ask Rey if she wanted to try and sell stuff like that to offset the cost of his work.

Or maybe it was because there were streaks in the dust.

Not footprints, not handprints, and nothing was _clean_. It was more like someone had come in years ago and touched things, and in those places the dust never fully filled in. A shudder zapped down Poe’s spine, and he backed away to the kid’s room.

For whatever reason, this room was in the worst shape of them all. The wallpaper was in tatters, there were crazy, spidering cracks in the windows, and the pillow on the bed was completely deflated. Not flat from use, just empty. He was certain that if and when he picked it up, he’d find a hole somewhere where the stuffing had fallen out, or… something.

Poe didn’t stay in that room very long, opting to head back out to the truck. He wasn’t overly superstitious, or religious, but there was a weird energy in that house. It was probably just paranoia from knowing that there’d been murders inside, and a missing kid, and the stagnation of being abandoned for a decade. That’s what he told himself as he walked gladly back into the sunshine.

If there was anything… _else_ going on, he had the next year to find out.

He climbed back into his truck and spent about a minute or so making a mental list of where he wanted to start and what he’d need. Oil that front door, first off, then start taking out furniture. Most everything he was going to be able to do himself, but for moving the big stuff, he’d need another pair of hands. And as Poe started his truck and began to back out of the driveway, he called up the perfect pair of hands.

“Finn, hey, buddy. Looking for some extra work?”

The moment his tires hit the street, something stirred in the house. Something that had been there for a long time, and had reawakened.

**One Year Later**

Excitement brewed in Rey’s chest as she followed Poe to her new home, her car looking like a duckling to his truck. She’d been down to the house plenty of times, overseeing his progress in fixing it up and making decisions, but this time was different. This time, she’d get to _stay_. No more pothead neighbors, no more Plutt screwing her over and creeping her out. For the first time in her life she felt like she’d get to experience true freedom.

Aside from all the money she now owed, but she was choosing to ignore that today.

The emotional concoction in her boiled over as the house came into view, painted a fresh, crisp white and surrounded by trees. The small garage beside it matched. Everything looked perfect. Poe had mowed the yard—yard!—and even planted some flowers at the base of the porch, practically a whole rainbow of them. That part was a surprise, she hadn’t asked him to do that.

She wondered what other tweaks he’d made without telling—or charging her. He hadn’t done the work for free, that would be insane, but she’d had to fight for every penny she gave him. It wasn’t a secret that she was poor, but it’s not like Poe was a millionaire himself. Still, he’d insisted on giving her a discount and she knew for a fact there were several things he paid for out of his own pocket. She was incredibly grateful, of course, but if he thought she wasn’t going to find a way to pay him back in full, he was mad.

Poe pulled over in front of the house to let her have the driveway. It was probably kind of stupid, but just the simple act of _parking_ blew her mind. This was her driveway, in front of her garage, beside _her house._ How crazy was that?

She hopped out of the car and waited for Poe by the porch, bouncing between her heels and toes. This had been a big project for him for a whole year, it only felt right to wait and see it finished for the first time with him at her side.

“Finn and Rose are on their way.” He said, presumably texting them back as he crossed the yard. “They’ll probably be here in twenty minutes. Do you want to start carrying stuff in now or wait for them?”  
Between their two cars—and one trip with larger furniture about a week ago—they’d brought everything Rey owned in the whole world. It was mostly clothes, to tell the truth, and her dishes. She had some stuff that friends, mostly Rose, had given her over the years, about one box’s worth of books, but not much else. She could have completely moved in herself, really, if she thought she could have gotten away with it. Her friends were very helpful, and insistent.

“Nah.” Rey decided. “We’ll wait. You know they’ll be disappointed if they miss out.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Poe pocketed his phone, and dug out the keys to the house. “Then why don’t we take a look around while we wait?”

He dangled them out in front of her, waiting for her cue. He didn’t have to, he was the one with the spare set, but it was symbolic, and it still sent electricity through her bones. She took the keys with a huge smile.

“Of course. Might as well see it clean before I ruin all your hard work with my wild lifestyle.”

Poe laughed as he followed her to the door. “I knew I should have charged you triple.”

Rey unlocked the door as if it was the entrance to an ancient, precious tomb. She carefully swung it open, holding her breath as the keys jingled in the mechanism.

The inside was white, as well, but it wouldn’t be forever. She planned on living in this house for the foreseeable future, so painting the walls more interesting colors would come with time, and definitely not before she had actual _things_ in the house. As of now, the nice wooden floors contained her old couch, with her bed and tiny dresser in one of the bedrooms upstairs. It would have been a pretty sad sight.

If it weren’t for Poe’s scheming.

He didn’t go crazy or anything, but there were a couple extra pieces of furniture that she knew weren’t hers. A coffee table in front of the couch, and a cute little bookshelf off under one of the windows. She walked over to that one and ran her hand over the top shelf.

“Before you say anything, I didn’t pay for these.” Poe said a bit defensively, shutting the door behind him. “I just know a lot of old people, doing what I do, and old people have stuff they’re practically begging me to take. One geezer even offered to _pay_ me to take something.”

Rey turned back to him, one eyebrow raised. “What all did you get?”

“These.” Poe gestured to the room. “A table and a couple of chairs for the kitchen, a set of nightstands for your room. I’m telling you, it’s crazy the kind of things people will hold onto, even if they don’t want them. If I asked around a little more I probably could have furnished the whole damn house for free.”

He went on a bit more about some of his interesting finds, but Rey didn’t hear a word. She just stared at him, utterly transfixed. Repairing things, that was Poe’s job, and he was good at it. She knew that she would be getting her money’s worth when she hatched her plan to buy this old house that no one else wanted and fix it up. But for him to go to this extra effort…

She didn’t really make a decision, but the next thing she knew she had trapped him in an extremely grateful hug, surprising him. “Thank you, Poe.” She murmured. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He patted her back. “I know, but you’re my friend. Besides, do you think I wanted to go back to my place and enjoy all my stuff while you sat here in an empty house? I don’t have time for that kind of guilt.”

Rey snorted and hit his chest as she pulled away. “Oh I see, you asked around and picked up all this furniture and dragged it out here and put it in my house without telling me just so you wouldn’t feel guilty about how poor I am?”

Poe smirked. “Is that bad?”

“You’re an ass.” She teased. In mock annoyance, Rey abandoned him to explore the house further. He, of course, followed. The kitchen was just off the front room, where she found the table and chairs he’d mentioned. One chair clearly went with the table, while the other didn’t match at all. That was fine, who was going to be in here but her?

There was a small bathroom connected to the kitchen, and an even smaller pantry beside that. She tried not to think about how sad those shelves were going to look when she organized the food she brought into the kitchen. Instead, she made note of a tiny door near the bottom of the farthest wall.

“What’s this?” She asked, kneeling down to give the knob a tug. It wouldn’t budge. “Is it real?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Poe leaned over her. “Tap it, it sounds hollow.”

So she did, and indeed, the little door gave a dull thud.

“I tried to open it with a couple different tools,” Poe said, “but I didn’t want to ruin it, when it wasn’t messed up to begin with. Besides, what would even fit in there? Like, a single shoe, maybe.”

“You’re probably right.” Rey stood, and he moved smoothly out of her way. “Okay, let’s go upstairs.”

There was another bathroom upstairs, this one with a tub/shower combo, and the two bedrooms. One was empty for now. The other, hers, evidently belonged to the victims of the tragedy that rendered this house undesirable.

“You do know what happened here, right?” Poe had asked her many months ago. “About the murders?”

“Yes.” She’d said. “But that was a long time ago, Poe, I’m going to be fine.”

They heard Finn and Rose arrive from the empty room, and went down to meet them. Rose, of course, was very enthusiastic, praising every little thing she saw and declaring the whole house “adorable as hell.” Finn mostly admired Poe’s handiwork. Rey pushed them all outside to start moving her in. All in all, it took maybe twenty minutes, and another thirty or so to get everything put away.

“This is more like it.” Rose chirped, plopping down on the couch. “Oh, I already have so many ideas for you for Christmas, this place has so much potential.” She clapped her hands like hummingbird wings.

Rey sat on the other side, stretching her legs out into her friend’s lap. “Okay, but let’s think about Christmas later, right now I just want to sleep.” She slid down, shifting until Rose’s thighs stopped her.

Rose gave her shins a quick tap. “But we hardly did anything! Come on, we need to celebrate. You have a house now! Rey, this is too exciting for sleep.”

Rey closed her eyes, mostly as a gesture of rebellion, and shook her head. “Nothing is too exciting for sleep, Rose. I only have one more day off, then I have to get back to work.”

“You’re not even in your bed.”

“Don’t care.”

She peeked open one eye to see Rose pouting, but she perked up instantly when Finn and Poe came back in from outside. Finn had a package in his arms.

“Ooh!” Rose squeaked, pushing Rey’s legs off of her. She jumped to her feet and to her husband’s side. “Okay, now you definitely can’t sleep, Rey. We have a housewarming present for you!”

Rey was tempted to keep being difficult, maybe even snore dramatically, but her friends were being so exceptionally helpful in her time of need, she figured that would be rude. She compromised by opening her eyes, but staying put. “Thank you, you two. You really didn’t have to.”

“C’mon, Rey, you know us.” Finn came over and set the box on her stomach. “Go on, open it. Just don’t tip it over.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Poe piped up as she wormed her way into a sitting position, “I didn’t get you anything.”

“Liar.” Rey said, tapping her foot on the coffee table.

“Okay. I didn’t get you anything _else_.”

She snorted, carefully tearing into the happy blue wrapping paper taped less carefully around the box now in her lap. Rose was practically bouncing like the floor was a trampoline until Finn grabbed her shoulder to settle her down.

There were several things in the box. First was a cactus, which is probably why Finn told her not to tip the box. It was a little one, dwarfed by the pot it was planted in: nice and simple and brown. She pulled it out carefully, setting it on the coffee table so she could safely explore the rest of the contents of the box.

“The cactus was Finn’s idea.” Rose told her proudly. “Since you work so much, he thought it would be better to get you something hard to kill.”

“Good idea.”

The rest of the box was full of treats. There was a cute mug with a cartoon house on it, many, _many_ packets and bags of tea and hot chocolate, several different bags of candy, and a candle that supposedly smelled of “Fresh Pine Forest,” as if there was a stale pine forest out there somewhere.

Rey set the box aside and got up to embrace her friends. “Thanks, you’re too sweet.” She said whilst buried in Finn’s shoulder. “I really appreciate it.”

“Anything for you, Rey.”

The rest of the night was spent celebrating. They made pasta, and Finn ran into town to get soda and juice. Poe told them all what he had done to the house, and how he sometimes spooked himself by thinking too much about the rumors of things going bump in the night. Finn didn’t like ghost stories, so they all teased him and generally had a good time. All three of them insisted on cleaning up when it was time for them to head out, refusing to let Rey help at all. In all honesty, the day had drained her, so she didn’t protest too much.

After the last set of lights had disappeared down the road, Rey began winding down. She put the cactus on the bookshelf, where it would get direct sunlight, and organized the rest of her presents in the kitchen. With just enough energy left for a shower, Rey decided to at least put her underwear and a loose t-shirt on before she crashed into bed.

Tomorrow, she would do absolutely nothing. She would enjoy her new house, relax, maybe even sit outside. It didn’t matter. She could do whatever she wanted.

With that thought bringing a smile to her face, Rey drifted off into her first peaceful sleep in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've gotten this far, hello and thank you for reading! This story was written as a Christmas gift for my friend avidvampirehunter, and now I'm sharing it with the rest of you! While still a work in progress, I have at least 6 more chapters finished as of now and since I'm going to update once a week, that will give me plenty of time to finish before y'all can catch up. So I hope you like it so far, because you're in for a ride!


	2. Part 1

Cold. Dark. Tired.

Hands. Arms. Gone? No. There. Legs? Maybe. House. Quiet. Everywhere. Nowhere. Up. Down. In. Out.

Foot. Again. Again. Light. Voice. Who? Stranger.

Gone.

* * *

Stranger back. Took things. Broke things. It hurt. Couldn’t stop. Another stranger. Took more. Felt lighter. Felt empty. Please, stop. Not yours.

Always back. Couldn’t stop. Tried to. Locked door. Had key. Too weak.

They laughed. “That was spooky.” Said stranger. “You know the stories about this place, right? I keep thinking I’m seeing stuff or hearing things.”

“Aw, c’mon, those are just stories. There’s no ghost in this house.”

No ghost.

A ghost?

No… maybe. Little flashes. Familiar people. A gun. Knife, blood. No screams. No fighting. Racing heartbeat. Up stairs. Then… cold.

Then this.

* * *

Stranger came back. Painted house white. Just white, everywhere. Everything was clean. It felt… better. House cared for. But still, frustrated. Stranger should leave. Not his home. Not his business.

Things got fixed. The lights, water. Stranger stayed weeks. Mat on floor. Watched, studied, listened. Why here, now? House not his. House was old. Who sent him?

One day, answered. Stranger opened door. He wasn’t alone. A new stranger. A young woman. She was excited. Looked over house. Touched everything, everywhere.

“Poe!” She cried—Stranger. “This is amazing! I don’t even recognize this place, did you do this all by yourself? There’s no way.”

“You’re doubting my skills now?” Not Stranger, Poe. He laughed full. “Yeah, I did most of it myself, but Finn helped when he could. We’re not quite done, but we should be able to start moving your stuff in in a couple weeks.”

Move in, her? Into his house? Plan all along?

She smiled wide. “Thank you!” She hugged Poe. “I still can’t believe this is happening. My own house!”

Poe hugged her. “You’ve earned it. I’ll have this place ship-shape right on time for you, just like I promised.”

“I know you will.”

Poe took her. Outside, to truck. He saw, almost. They drove away. He promised her. Fix the house? Why her, here? And why now? He was here. He hadn’t left. Why his house?

* * *

The woman was back.

Poe had brought extra furniture without her, singing his own praises for bringing her a surprise. Now she saw it, walking slowly through the living room. “What all did you get?” She asked him. He told her the truth, and it seemed to affect her. She hugged him. He wondered if they were lovers, with all Poe had done for her.

They went to the kitchen, and he was there, too. He was everywhere. But also nowhere. Always in the house, though. He could press on the walls, the shell of the house, and they trapped him. The rooms were meaningless, he could slip through them like water, but he could not leave.

He tried, when one day he realized he existed. There was no moment, no big epiphany, he just knew that he was real, and present in the world. And so he tried to follow Poe outside of the house as he was leaving. But although the front door was open at the time, something held him back. Something invisible as he, but very, very real.

“Is it real?” The woman asked.

She was fiddling with a small door in the pantry, and he knew the answer.  _ Yes _ , he wanted to say,  _ that’s a real door, there’s something inside _ .

But he couldn’t say it, and he didn’t know how he knew those things. As the woman pulled away, he tried to slip through the little door, but he couldn’t. Some force kept him from entering, much as he was kept from leaving the house. Curious.

When he finished, they were upstairs, and so was he. But not for long. Once again, strangers came into his house. Another man, and another woman. The man had been in the house before, Finn. He helped Poe fix the house. The woman was definitely new, and very loud.

Poe and his friends were all loud, it turned out. He retreated into a corner of the house, shrinking away from them as best he could. He pulled himself in, almost like a blanket, balling up tight. It took all of his energy, and by the time he had succeeded, he was very tired, and once again filled the house.

The people were eating now, talking. There were only two chairs in the kitchen, so the men were standing. The room was warm with their energy, their excited chatter. The jokes, the stories. He couldn’t remember the last time there had been this kind of happiness in the house. Though really, he couldn’t remember much of anything at all. Anything he did remember came in flashes that hardly stuck.

The first woman had evidently made some kind of joke, because the second suddenly screeched with laughter.

“Rey!” She roared, smacking the table. “Stop! I’m gonna pee my pants!”

So, her name way Rey, this woman who was to be living in his house. He focused his attention on her. She reminded him of… someone, with her brown hair and her snappy way of talking. Her smile was wide and bright. She seemed nice, but she was still a stranger, an invader. This was his home.

But was it, anymore? Not in the minds of these people, clearly, who came in and changed everything. Poe and Finn, they had talked before of stories, ghost stories. Was he a ghost? He wasn’t human, not like them, but he didn’t  _ feel _ dead. Though, how would he know?

No, even if he was dead, it was still his home. The house seemed to think so, since it wouldn’t let him leave. He was here to stay.

Eventually, Poe, Finn, and the woman he learned was named Rose all left, and it was just him and Rey left in the house. She stood at the window until her friends were completely gone, and then began to mess with a pile of things on the coffee table. She moved a plant, and carried everything else into the kitchen, where she put it all on shelves.

While she did that, he pressed on the small door inside the pantry again. As he suspected, he still couldn’t get inside. Yet he knew that there was something behind that door. Something important. He tried slipping through from behind, from the sides. Still nothing. He’d have to keep trying, or hope that Rey would have enough curiosity to figure out how to pry it open.

She took a shower, and he stayed downstairs, choosing to focus on her little plant. It was a cactus. One of those round ones that would probably flower. He found himself wanting to poke it, which was silly, but he tried anyway.

And it… sort of worked. He didn’t have hands, not really, but he did manage to touch the cactus. He didn’t feel the spines in the way that he should, but he did feel them. It was almost like when he tried to leave the house, but weaker. A little pressure. Curious, he tried to touch the bookshelf the cactus was sat upon, but that he went right through. Just like the inner walls of the house. It must have been because the cactus was alive. Maybe he could test that further.

He heard the water shut off upstairs. Rey was finished with her shower. He wanted to go up and watch her more, see how she conducted business. After all, he seemed to be stuck in this house, and if she was going to be living here, shouldn’t he know more about her? But as he listened to her move around above him, getting ready for bed, he decided that for now, he would only watch her when she was downstairs. It wasn’t her fault that he was here, and she deserved her privacy.

Soon enough, the house fell silent, as it had been for a very long time. But everything was different. Not just all the changes that Poe made, but something in the way the house  _ felt _ . In the way that he felt.  _ That _ he felt. He wasn’t sure he liked it.

So instead of dwelling on any of that, he tried to find the place he’d been in for the last however long. That place that was almost like sleep, where time seemed to slip away like water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See? Next chapter, as promised!


	3. Part 2

When Rey came downstairs the next morning, she wasn’t wearing pants.

He watched her yawn into the kitchen, patting down sleep-distressed hair. She pulled a mug from the sink and looked it over, and after apparently reaching some kind of decision, took a kettle from the pantry and began to boil water.

With the mug, she filled it up and padded into the main room to water the cactus. She didn’t seem to know how much to water it. After a small pour she would stop, watch the plant for a moment, and then pour again. She did this three times before she was satisfied.

He found himself mesmerized watching her do these small, simple tasks. Making her tea, eating a bowl of cereal, messing with a small handheld device. He hadn’t experienced the same thing while Poe was fixing up the house, but he had hardly been aware for most of that time, and after he was, he spent a lot of time stuffing himself into a corner, hidden as far away from Poe as he could get. Now that he was stronger, he was curious.

He almost reached out with an invisible hand to try and test his cactus theory by touching Rey on the shoulder, but at that moment she rose from the table, put her dishes in the sink, and nearly hopped up the stairs. He stared after her, but honored his decision to keep the upstairs her space. At least while she was home.

She came back quickly, still not wearing any pants, with a cd in one hand and a small stereo in the other. She set the stereo up next to the cactus on the bookshelf and hit play, grabbing a book with no title on the spine as the music started up.

He didn’t recognize the music, and as she’d left the plastic case open, he couldn’t read the name of the band. She liked it though, bouncing one foot up and down as she lay on the couch with the book held open above her, one leg crossed over the other.

After the first song finished, she began to sing along. Kind of. She wasn’t very good at it, or maybe she just didn’t know the words. She murmured to the same tune, and he could occasionally make out words like “forever” and “believe.”

Was this going to be their life from now on? She going about her business, blissfully unaware of his existence, and he watching her, silenced and unseen? It had hardly been a day, but already a bit of frustration began to build wherever he held emotions without a body.

And that was part of it—how to be, without a body! As best he could tell, he was spread about the house as sort of a formless mass, able to concentrate himself into spaces at will if he tried hard enough, and like the cactus the night before, he could apparently “touch” with similar concentration. On top of that, he could move his consciousness around, although generally aware of everything in the house. For example, as he considered his existence, he could tell that a bottle of something was about to fall in the bathroom upstairs.

As he expected, the bottle of something  _ did _ fall, clattering loudly enough for Rey to hear over her music, which to be fair, wasn’t very loud anyway. She overreacted, in his opinion, flinching sharply enough for her book to almost slip out of her hands and land on her face. She caught it before it could, and took a deep breath. Dog-earing her page, Rey took the device he realized was a phone and crept slowly upstairs.

It dawned on him, watching her disappear, that she was afraid. Of course she was, she didn’t know that it had just been a bottle falling. Her thoughts probably jumped to the worst-case scenarios: a burglar, or a killer, or, of course…

A ghost.

He still didn’t know if he was a ghost, but he supposed he must be, because what other explanation was there? But Rey had no reason to fear him. Even if he wanted to harm her, he wasn’t sure that he could. For all he knew, touching that cactus had been a fluke.

Well, he could certainly test that, couldn’t he?

When he returned to the cactus, he found that no, it wasn’t a fluke. He couldn’t isolate the individual spines, but the body was there, he could feel it. In fact, as he tried to press harder, he got it to bend slightly. Fascinating.

Rey came back down and seemed a lot calmer, settling into her book again. Since he couldn’t hold a book himself he was tempted, just for a moment, to read over her shoulder. But watching that close felt wrong, and besides, she was a decent way through the book already, he would have no clue what was happening.

Not that that would be a change of pace.

Instead, he lingered near the cactus and observed her going about her day. He thought he would get bored eventually, simply sitting for hours and hours, but he never did. It wasn’t that Rey’s life was spectacularly exciting, it was more that he hardly noticed the passage of time at all. There was always something to see, something to notice about this stranger who was now his only companion, if unaware of that fact.

He saw that she read slowly; her eyes seemed to carefully trace every letter before she moved on. She always had her fingers poised to turn to the next page no matter how far she was from the end. When her CD ended, she would get up and just play the same one again, despite having five or six others to choose from. She would dog-ear her page when she got up, but she would always press firmly on the flap to try and straighten it out again. Sometimes she would stop and look at her phone, and he realized eventually that she was looking up words she didn’t understand.

When she decided to stop reading, Rey put everything down on the coffee table and went upstairs. He turned his attention to the window, to the world he was barred from entering. The sun shone brightly off of Rey’s little grey car into his… his eyes? No. Still, the light reflected toward the house and over the yard, which was nice and green, and freshly groomed. The house and the road were lined with trees, but as he looked out he could see a grassy field that would seem endless if it weren’t for the roofs of houses he could see peeking just over the horizon.

He knew these sights, just like he knew this was his home, but the memories were… lacking, to say the least. He didn’t even remember his own name, much less anything about the life lived here. He knew more about Rey than he did about himself.

He wondered, as someone jogged by on the side of the road, if the memories would come with time, like his abilities. They had to, didn’t they? If he was a ghost, then he had a life before he died. All of that couldn’t just vanish.

Could it?

Rey’s phone rang, startling him. The bookshelf rattled. Rey came rushing back down the stairs, feet thundering louder than usual as she snatched up the little device and fell onto the couch, ever so slightly out of breath.

“Hey, Rose.” She said. “What’s up?”

Ah, of course, Rose. She was the loud one.

“I’ve been pretty good. Yeah, I’ve just been reading today, listening to some music. I was about to get my stuff ready for work tomorrow so I don’t have to worry about it later, you know, when you called.” She paused and listened, eyeing her book. “No, I know, I wish I had more time off, too, but I can’t afford it. It’s okay, it’s worth it to be in my own house.”

“No, Rose, I haven’t seen any ghosts. My house is not haunted, okay? You and Finn just have wild imaginations. ...I don’t care if Poe started it!”

She laughed, but he wasn’t so amused. What if the day came where she  _ did _ see him? What would happen then?

He shrunk into a corner then, and he stayed there for the rest of the day, becoming even more of a passive observer in Rey’s life than before. He stayed put as she got ready for work and seemingly skipped lunch, but did eat a dinner of soup and muttered aloud to herself about the merits of doing a measly handful of dishes. She decided not to bother, and went to bed around the same time the sun finally set, and the darkness of night was true.

He stayed the next day, even after she left for work, and after she came home. Actually, he stayed the rest of the week, and the next week, too. It was easy to go dormant like that. Maybe too easy. He had a suspicion that this is what had happened to him before, that he’d fallen too deep into this sedentary state, and with nothing to break him out, simply withered until the day Poe stepped into his house.

But Rey kept him from drifting too far from reality. The hours she worked were long, and often she would just collapse into bed, or sometimes the couch, and fall asleep, but her presence alone was rejeuvenating. Every time she came home, it was like that first moment all over again. Though, she was stronger than Poe ever was. When Rey stepped in the door, he felt just a little more solid, more real.

One night, she came home late, as usual, but something must have happened. She stomped up the stairs, practically stabbed the lock with her key and slammed the door shut once she got inside.

It woke him up.

Either that, or her bag which she tossed aside and which flew directly through whatever he interpreted to be his face.

In the split second between the bag “hitting” him and hitting the wall, he flinched, knocking over several of her books and rattling the poor cactus. Rey stopped to glare at the mess, but she clearly wasn’t concerned because she just huffed and moved on.

“Stupid… dammit.” She muttered under her breath, continuing inaudibly as she aggressively untied her shoes, leaving them by the door as she let her hair down and failed to shake the kinks out created by her hair ties.

On a normal night, she would have maybe sat down in the kitchen and had something to eat, probably taken a shower or a bath upstairs before settling down to sleep. But tonight, she was apparently too angry to do either. Rey fell back onto the couch and huffed again, crossing her arms as if she were tucking herself in. She didn’t hold this position for long, tossing and turning off and on for at least an hour before she finally fell asleep on her side, wedged against the couch cushions.

Since coming to understand that the two of them would be kind of stuck here together, he had watched her out of an apathetic interest, not really caring one way or the other how her life was going, but tonight he felt differently. Something had clearly upset her, and though he knew he might never find out what, it bothered him. Maybe it was because she had been here for almost a month now, or because her anger was almost visible, but he felt the need to comfort her, somehow.

In an attempt to do so, and partially to sate his own curiosity, he reached out to gently touch her arm.

When he made contact, everything changed. He felt her anger as his own, layered thick with frustration and fear. He felt her exhaustion, and not just from the day, but how it seeped into her bones, slumbering and evergreen. Yet he also felt the peace she had in this house. She found freedom here, where he was bound. This woman, Rey, had suffered greatly, and the solitude of the house brought her a serenity she’d never been granted before.

All of this he felt in a moment, for that is how long he dared touch her. But he did manage it, just as he’d touched the cactus, so perhaps his theory was correct, after all.

He watched her sleep for a little while, processing everything he had just learned. Despite all the anger brewing in her heart, Rey slept like she had never worried about a thing a day in her life. Perhaps because it was the only time she didn’t  _ have _ to worry. She slept with both hands cupped or curled near her face, and both legs tucked in, despite there being enough room on the couch to stretch out.

She started to snore soon enough, kind of loud and borderline obnoxious if she weren’t the only living person in the house. In the morning, she would just have to wake up and do the same thing all over again, going to work just to come back and sleep. If there was something he could do to help, suddenly, he knew that he would do it.

To that end, he touched her again, pushing past her negative emotions to try and find her peace, hoping that if he focused on it, he could somehow bring her more. This time he held on until she shifted, and when she did, he noted just the faintest outline of a hand as he pulled away.


	4. Part 3

On another of Rey’s rare days off, it rained, and he had never seen her more pleased.

It was one of the last days before summer turned to fall, and still warm. Rey woke up when the rain splattered loud against the window. This he knew because just a split second later, her feet hit the floor upstairs as she rushed to see if what she heard was true.

“Yes!” She cried. He heard some shuffling, which was probably her putting appropriate clothes on, and down the stairs she ran, straight for the front door. He caught the briefest glimpse of her face before she left, and what he saw was the purest, most adorable joy.

Just because of the rain?

He couldn’t follow her out into the yard, so he settled for watching out the window to see what she was up to. At first, she wasn’t doing anything, just standing at the bottom of the porch steps, letting the rain wash over her. She had her head turned upward towards the sky, as if she’d never seen rain before, which was surely impossible. Rain comes anywhere, even in the most remote desert.

She didn’t stay that way for long, though, just until her hair was soaked slick to her coat and neck and her pants clung to her legs. Then she surveyed the yard, which was quickly gathering puddles, and leapt forward.

Rey became a child, splashing through the standing water with her sandals. She whooped and hollered and spun, opening her arms wide to the weather with a smile even wider. Her feet and pants were quickly muddied, but she didn’t seem to care. He wasn’t even sure she noticed.

He watched her play with a different kind of wonder. He never would have guessed she held this inside of her, closely kept but loosely gripped so as to be let loose with the simple promise of rain. The woman he saw every day was responsible, hard-working, and often exhausted. It was a shock to see this same woman, just one layer deeper, so readily engaged in something so silly. She was almost a different person.

She stopped for a moment as a car passed by, and he was seized by the desire to join her, to feel rain on his skin and mud between his toes. It was a poisonous desire, for he had neither skin nor toes. She didn’t even know he existed. But still he found himself at the open door, pressing against the boundary as invisible as he that kept him bound in hopes of breaking it, to go outside with Rey and just… be.

But once again, his efforts were fruitless. And as he looked down, wondering if he may have at least produced the same shadowy hand silhouette that he had some time ago (which he hadn’t), Rey came back inside, walking straight through him.

For that brief moment, he was shocked with her joy as if struck by lightning. A flash of warmth that he was certain he’d never felt before consumed him, and he saw a child with dark hair running across the yard toward the open arms of a man with no face.

In that same moment, his vision was gone, and Rey shivered. She turned and shut the door, rubbing her own arms down and he crept back to his place by the bookcase, processing all that had just happened.

“Cold coldcoldcoldcold,” Rey whispered to herself, bouncing out of her sandals. Only now did she seem to realize how muddy she’d gotten, and cursed under her breath, picking them up to inspect the wood floor beneath. Satisfied that she hadn’t tracked anything in, she still went to the kitchen and grabbed a towel to set her shoes on, then wiggled out of her soaked pants and returned to the kitchen, throwing them in the small bathroom beside the pantry, where the washer and dryer were hidden.

He lost track of her after that, but at some point he heard the shower turn on upstairs. That was the second time he’d been able to feel Rey’s emotions through contact with her, but the first time he’d seen… what was that? Those people he saw, they weren’t real, they couldn’t have been. Could he have been seeing a memory of Rey’s, as well as feeling her joy? It didn’t seem impossible, but the child he saw was definitely a boy. He supposed Rey could have a brother, yet…

There was something familiar about him.

Rey finished in the shower quickly, and came down to the kitchen clad in fresh sweatpants and a tank top, hair still wet and stuck around her shoulders. He allowed himself to indulge in his lingering desire to join her, and left his corner to instead park himself near the kitchen chair that she never used, the one that matched the table.

Rey pulled out the mug that her friends had given her and took out a tea bag from the little box on the counter, then grabbed her kettle for boiling the water. Once the kettle was on heat, she picked up the tea box and shook it. It made no sound, so she must have grabbed the last bag.

“Great.” She sighed, and put the box back. With nothing else to do until the water boiled, Rey sat down at the table. Right across from him.

She wasn’t looking at him. She was sat sideways, facing the stove, breaking the rule about watched pots. But he was looking at her, for what else was there to look at? He had no investment in her tea, and there were no windows in the kitchen. There was only her.

He had gotten over her living in his home by now, it hardly mattered anymore. He had to accept his fate as a ghost, and hers as the person he… well, he wasn’t  _ living _ with her, was he? But he wasn’t really haunting her, either. Not in the way of scaring her and messing with her things, anyway. But perhaps this watching, maybe it still counted as a haunting. Watching while she slept, while she played in the rain, while she made tea. While she lived. Was that haunting?

Rey started examining her fingernails absentmindedly, patting her hair to see how dry it was. He felt bad, suddenly, for following her here. The kitchen, while not as private a place as the bathrooms or her bedroom, still seemed to him as more of “her” space than he should be allowed to inhabit. If he could, he would leave the whole house and wander elsewhere to give her true privacy.

_ I’m sorry, Rey,  _ he thought to himself.

Except, it wasn’t entirely to himself. One word slipped out. He  _ spoke _ .

_ “Rey…” _

He didn’t mean to speak, he didn’t even think he could, but her name came from what he imagined to be his throat, soft and wavering, hardly loud enough to hear at all.

But she did hear, though she didn’t seem to be sure. Her head zipped back and forth, trying to determine where this mysterious sound came from. He tried to do it again, but considering he had no idea how he did it in the first place, that was rather difficult. His best idea was to try and recreate his thoughts and hope he spoke on accident again.

_ I’m sorry, Rey. I’m sorry, Rey. I’m sorry, Rey. _

He couldn’t seem to get it right, and before too long she seemed to have forgotten about the whole thing. Her kettle began to screech, and she got up to make her tea.

Once again, he slunk back to the corner he’d been keeping himself in, suddenly tired. Strange things kept happening around Rey. Seeing things? Speaking? What was it about her that kept causing all these—these changes? He spent God knows how long dormant, and no matter how much time Poe spent restoring this house, nothing even  _ close _ to this happened to him. She had to be special somehow, had to possess some quality that Poe didn’t have. There had to be an explanation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Another update, we're on a roll! This one's a little bit shorter, but that's because Part 3 is actually split into three different sections. The next two are longer, and will come over the next couple weeks like we've been doing.
> 
> Please feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think! I hope you're enjoying the story so far!


	5. Part 3-2

Over the next week or so, he wasn’t quite sure of the time, he practiced speaking whenever Rey wasn’t home. He didn’t want to scare her, though he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to manage it without her near.

Still, he tried, facing the cactus as he did, hoping that was good enough. He had grown kind of attached to the cactus, seeing as he sat beside it most of the time. He concentrated on her name, how it felt when he spoke, on making himself heard. Maybe it was insane, but now that he knew he had the ability to speak, he felt the need to master it. To talk to her. Maybe she could help him.

Again and again, he thought with as much effort as possible, trying to force his thoughts into speech.  _ Rey. _ He’d done it once, surely he could do it again.  _ Rey. _ He had to do it again. He couldn’t keep lurking in corners forever, unable to interact with her in any kind of way that she could understand.

_ Rey. _

The best he was able to manage was a few anguished croaks after seemingly endless failures. Oddly, that gave him hope. Any sound at all was better than nothing, and so he only forged on, determined to find his voice.

After that, he began to extend his practices into nighttime. Rey was asleep, but she was home, and he hoped that was good enough. He lingered at the bottom of the stairs, the closest he would let himself get, and once again tried to speak her name.

_ Rey. _

He kept this up well into October, with little success. Until one day, the same day he realized it was October, when Rey’s friend Rose came over to the house carrying a box that spilled over with orange and black. He watched her drag the box out of her car, knocking the door closed with her hip before she came up to the porch. He wondered if Rey, who was upstairs at the time, had any idea about this arrangement. This only intensified when Rose put the box down, and instead of knocking on the door, picked up her phone to presumably call Rey, as her own phone began to ring from the kitchen.

Rey did that rather often: leaving her phone someplace out of the way from where she actually intended to be. Sometimes she even left her phone at home when she went to work. It made him nervous when she did that. Not that he could call her or anything, but if something happened, how was she supposed to call for help?

She came downstairs quickly, skipping the bottom two steps to get to the kitchen faster.

“Yeah?” She answered, slightly out of breath. “You’re what? Hold on.”

Phone still in hand, Rey came out of the kitchen to investigate. She peeked out of the window by the bookcase, and seeing Rose—who waved—she left again to answer the door, but those few seconds were the closest together they’d been since he spoke. Having her near made him that much more determined to find a way to communicate.

“Sorry to just pop in like this.” Rose said, hoisting her box over to the coffee table. “But I was going through our Halloween decorations and realized that you finally have space to decorate, too! Plus Finn wanted me to get rid of some stuff, so I figured,” she began to pull things out of the box, “what better way to do that then to give some to you?” With a little ghost in her hand Rose turned back to Rey. “I hope that’s okay. Maybe I should have asked first…”

Rey dropped her phone onto the table and picked up a strand of little plastic skeletons, then smiled at her friend. “No, it’s okay. I was just going through some of those boxes I have in the other bedroom to try and find my little pumpkin. This is sweet, Rose, thank you.” She held up the skeletons and stretched them out as far as her arms could go. There was still several feet left on either side. “These guys will look great on that wall over there.”

Reassured, Rose beamed. “Yeah they will! I tried to pick ones I thought you’d like. And I gave you most of my ghosts, too.”

“Because you still think my house is haunted?”

“No! I swear, that’s not why.” Rose took the ghost in her hand and placed it on the bookshelf, beside the cactus. “I gave you my ghosts because they are adorable, and because Finn hates them.” That last part she added under her breath, as she picked another ghost out of the box. “But now that you mention it, it does fit to have ghosts here.”

“My house is  _ not _ haunted, Rose.” Rey insisted, dropping the skeletons to dig through the box more. “You people are making me paranoid. A couple weeks ago I thought I heard something say my name.”

Rose gasped for him, and the little ghost on the bookshelf rattled. She really did hear him. And she remembered.

“You heard a  _ voice _ ?” Rose exclaimed. “And it said your  _ name _ ? Oh, Rey.” She looked around, even directly at him, dropping her voice almost to a whisper. “What if your house really is haunted? What if there’s a ghost watching us right now?”

“It wasn’t a ghost, and nothing actually said my name.” Rey pulled some hooks from the box, perfect for hanging the skeletons. “I told you, I was just paranoid. All I heard was the steam from my kettle. Now are you going to help me set stuff up or not?”

Rose agreed to help, but the second Rey walked away to start eyeballing where she wanted the skeletons to go, she looked around again and whispered, “If you’re here, Mr. Ghost, please don’t hurt Rey.”

_ I won’t. _ He promised, even though she couldn’t hear.  _ I’d never hurt her. _

He watched as the two of them hung up the skeletons, placed some more ghosts around, and tried to figure out where to plug in this little house which, he learned, played some chittery laughter if you pressed the hand of the skeleton reaching out from the fake ground. It ended up in the kitchen. Rose lamented that it deserved more of a visible spot, but Rey pointed out that with its short cord, there was nowhere else it could be and work properly.

When they finished decorating, and Rey placed her hands on her hips, surveying their work proudly. He liked seeing such a content smile on her face. It wasn’t as if she never smiled, but it was often for the sake of others. This smile was for herself. Rose was in the kitchen, having given herself the duty of making them lunch. 

Rey came over to the bookshelf, squatting down to pick through her music. She hummed a familiar tune, which probably meant she was going to pick the CD that song was on. Based on the amount of times she’d played it, it was one of her favorites.

He watched her closely, trying not to notice just how beautiful she was. It wasn’t his place to have those thoughts. She didn’t know he was there, just a few feet from her. But he wanted her to. He wanted to reach out, to let her know that she wasn’t alone.

Or maybe he just wanted to know that  _ he  _ wasn’t alone. Rey had her friends. Rose, Finn, Poe—who he still thought might actually be her boyfriend, even though he hadn’t come to the house in a while. Rey was the only person he had, as tenuous as that was. Sometimes he thought that life had been preferable before she moved in, when only Poe came by and the only things he knew were those he could see and hear. He didn’t know what he might have thought of the afterlife when he was alive, but he doubted that he would have imagined himself haunting a corner trying to talk to a cactus for weeks. The more time he spent with, or, around Rey, the more difficult it became to accept the way things were.

_ I just want to talk to you… _

_ “Rey…” _

“Yeah?” She called, evidently after Rose, before he could process his second accidental success. But that’s what it was, a success! Now if only he could do this on purpose…

“Huh?” Rose called back, poking her head out from the kitchen.

Rey paused, selected CD in hand (he was right) and eyebrows furrowed. “Did you need something?”

Rose shook her head. “No. Why?”

“Nothing, never mind.” Rey waved her back into the kitchen, then held the CD case tightly between her hands. “There’s no ghost.” She muttered to herself. “You’re just paranoid. You’re going to call Poe later and give him a piece of your mind.”

_ No! There is a ghost! I’m right here! _

Desperate, and high off of her name, he broke his own rules and reached out to grab her wrist, pouring all of himself into getting it right this time. Her skin was warm, and soft, and once again he saw his own fingers for the briefest of moments.

_ “I’m here, Rey.” _ He said, with every ounce of strength that he could muster.

Rey yelped, yanking away from his unseen grip as the CD case clattered to the ground. Her eyes were wide with fear and though he knew she wasn’t doing it on purpose, she was staring directly at him. If she hadn’t believed in his presence before, she probably did now.

“Rey??” Rose was at her side in a flash, and she flinched when Rose grabbed her arms to pull her up. “Hey, are you alright, what happened?”

“Nothing, Rose, nothing.” But Rey couldn’t keep her eyes off of his corner. “Can I borrow your couch tonight?”

“Of course you can, silly.”

Rose bent to pick up the fallen case, but Rey stopped her. “Don’t.” She said, tone bordering on stern. “Just leave it. Is lunch ready?”

Rose nodded. “Yeah, I just put together some sandwiches. You sure you’re okay?”

The look Rey threw at his corner could have killed him a second time. He’d pulled himself into the tightest ball he could, but even from there he could feel her jittering nerves, her desire to run. He’d done exactly what he never wanted: he scared her.

“Yes.” Rey lied. “I’m fine.”


	6. Part 3-3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, y'all! This is where things get exciting!

Rey ended up staying with Rose for about a week, but to him it was an eternity. He clearly hadn’t gone to Hell, but this had to be pretty close. He practically melted into the floor, a puddle of guilt for driving Rey out of her own home. How could he have been so selfish? Why did he think his own desire for contact was more important than her right to feel safe in her own home?

_ That’s not what you think,  _ he tried telling himself.  _ You’ve never gone upstairs or invaded her privacy more than you had to. You’re stuck in the house, it’s not your fault _ .

Somehow, none of that helped. At the end of the day, it was still his fault that she left. He didn’t have to reach out like that, to scare her, but he did.

Ironically, he had gotten better at speaking in her absence this time.

_ “I’m sure she’ll be back soon.” _ He said to the cactus, which he had affectionately named Spike.  _ “She has to come home eventually. At least to get you.” _

Spike said nothing in return, as usual.

He looked out the window and saw that the sun had set since the last time he bothered to look. It was surprisingly easy to simply ignore the passage of time, even as it wore on him like sandpaper.

_ “I want to tell her I’m sorry.” _ He admitted to Spike.  _ “But I’d probably just scare her again. What do you think I should do?” _

Spike met his query with silence.

_ “You’re probably right.” _ He sighed.  _ “I should just keep my mouth shut.” _

A few cars passed on the street as he debated his own sanity—talking to a plant like that, really?—but one of them turned, headlights cutting through the darkness in the house like butter before they shut off. He looked, and saw there were actually two cars. Rey’s, and what looked to be Rose’s.

_ “She’s back.” _ He whispered to Spike.

Rey stepped out of her car, and was followed by what turned out to be both Finn and Poe. Poe seemed to be dressed as a soldier, and Finn was… a fireman?

Oh, it was Halloween.

Rey wasn’t dressed up at all, but she still had a bag of candy on her arm, which he saw when a few Hershey bars skittered out after she tossed the bag on the coffee table. How long had it been since he last had chocolate?

“Well, I’m home.” Rey said, kind of shrugging to gesture to the room, which sat exactly as she’d left it. “See? Everything’s fine. You guys didn’t have to come with me.”

“We just wanted to make sure you were alright.” Finn tipped his plastic helmet. “You were pretty freaked.”

“I was not.”

“You totally were.” Poe patted her shoulder as he continued into the house, inspecting the kitchen and jogging up the stairs for a quick look-around.

“It’s  _ your _ fault!” Rey accused, rolling her eyes. “Seriously, I’m fine. Thanks for letting me stay over though, Finn.”

“Any time, Rey.” Finn smiled, and crossed his arms when Poe stepped on a creaky board in the bedroom. “And by the way, I don’t believe this stuff Rosie and Poe are saying about ghosts. It’s weird living in a house like this by yourself, I get it.”

“Finally,  _ someone _ with a brain.” Rey teased. But he sensed some tension within her, and felt a fresh wave of guilt that followed relief when he realized that Finn was the only person in the house that didn’t believe in ghosts. She did believe, he was sure of that.

“Place is empty.” Poe announced, coming back downstairs. “Unless there really is a—”

“Don’t, Poe.”

“Alright, alright. Come on, Finn, let’s bounce before she bites my head off.” Poe laughed, throwing an arm around his friend’s neck. “You call us if you need anything, alright Rey?”

“I will,” she promised, “just not tonight, because I’m  _ fine _ .” Rey waved them out of the house as they all repeatedly told each other goodbye, and waved again as they backed out of the driveway. She watched until their car disappeared, and possibly longer, hand held tight around the door. He thought he could see her trembling.

Eventually she closed the front door, taking her time. Her movements were almost robotic as she reached up to the lock. She took a deep breath.

_ Click _ .

The air in the room changed. Even he felt cold, and pulled himself inward as Rey turned around to face her home for the first time in a week. To face him. She stared so intently at his corner that for a moment he forgot she couldn’t actually see him, and tried to slink away.

_ Rey… I’m sorry. _

“I know you’re here.” She said, accusatory and strong. She then turned her gaze to the rest of the room, probably for the event that he had moved somewhere else in her absence. “I heard you. I felt you. If… if you’re really here, if I’m not crazy, speak to me again. I need to know.”

For all his preparation for this moment, he choked. He couldn’t believe she was actually talking to him. Wanting him to talk  _ back _ . Unhappy as she was, that almost didn’t matter. She wanted to talk to him. And God, he wanted to talk to her.

He almost waited too long. Rey sighed when silence was her only response, pinching the bridge of her nose. “This is stupid. There’s no ghost, I just let Poe’s stories get to me. I’m going to kill him.”

She started to head upstairs, muttering to herself about getting back at Poe. Desperation awoke hot within him. No! She couldn’t go, not when he was so close! If he let her go now, he might never get this chance again, to talk to her while she wanted to listen.

_ “Rey.” _ He said, releasing himself from his lonely corner.  _ “I’m here.” _

She paused, one hand on the bannister, one foot on the bottom step. She didn’t turn, didn’t hardly seem to even breathe. But with the breath she had, she squeaked out, “Say that again. Say it again if you’re real.”

_ “I’m here, Rey.” _ He obeyed.  _ “I’m real.” _

She still didn’t turn, though it would hardly matter if she did. Her hand tightened around the bannister so it creaked. He could feel fear radiating from her, but a smattering of curiosity, too. He hoped that soon, her fear would be gone entirely. All he wanted in the world was to talk to her.

_ “I’m sorry I frightened you,” _ He said, the words spilling out now, one after the other.  _ “I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to talk to you.” _

“Where are you?” She nearly interrupted, inching a little from her frozen pose.

Why would that matter? But he answered,  _ “Behind you.” _

This time she whipped around, scanning the room as if this communication meant he would now be visible. Even if he was, he wasn’t sure what she would see. He’d only caught a small glimpse of his hand a few times, that was hardly enough to know what he looked like.

Her next question was anticipated, but answerless. Finally focusing her eyes roughly where he was—he moved so that she was right—she asked, “Who are you?”

When he had nothing to say, she took her foot off the bottom step. “I did some research on the house while I was gone. There’s only been three deaths here, all on the same night. And I don’t think you’re the mother. So,” she said, “are you the father? Are you Han Solo? Or are you the son?

“Are you Ben?”

As soon as that name passed her lips, Rey was gone. The house was dark, people were shouting, inky figures shifted in the darkness. He looked down and there was a body. His body? He tried moving the arms, and they obeyed. He was alive?

_ “Leia, get the gun! Ben, call the police!” _

_ “Han, no—” _

_ “I’ll take care of this, just get the damn gun! Ben!” _

_ “Ben!” _

“You’re Ben, aren’t you?”

Rey was back. There were lights on in the house. He looked down, and the body was gone. That must have been another vision, like the boy in the rain. Han… Leia…

His parents. They died that night. And so did he.

_ “Yes.” _ He said without hesitation.  _ “Ben. Ben Solo. This was my home.” _

The name sounded foreign, yet he knew it was his, the same way he’d known he existed, or that this had been his home before he died. These things had always been true, but were simply forgotten or lost when he died. But confronted with them, he could not deny their reality. He was Ben. He died in this house. His parents died in this house. And now Rey—Rey was alive here.

She seemed satisfied with his answer. “I thought so. Have you been here the whole time?”

_ “I have.” _

“Then why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Rey sat down on the second step, keeping her eyes locked on where she decided he was, where he had gone for her.

_ “I was too weak. I didn’t even know I could speak until I accidentally said your name one day.” _

Her eyes widened. “The—in the kitchen, right?”

She still remembered…  _ “Yes. I had been wishing I could give you more privacy, and your name… it just slipped out. I still don’t know why, but ever since then…” _ He paused. This was amazing, talking to her, but did he really want to tell her his entire story all at once? What if he drove her away again? Not that there was much to tell, he supposed… 

Rey didn’t seem to want to stop talking though, because she urged him to continue, “Ever since then, what? And, uh…” She scrunched her face a little. “What exactly do you mean by, ‘more privacy?’”

_ “Oh, uh…” _ Had he had a body, he surely would have been blushing. As it was, he sort of felt like static.  _ “Well, I’ve been wanting to talk to you. Being alone all the time is agonizing, I thought if I could at least talk to someone, it might be easier.” _ He sighed. _ “But this is your home now. If I could, I would leave entirely. That’s what I mean about privacy.” _

“You can’t leave?”

_ “No. Believe me, I’ve tried.” _ So many times. It used to bother him more. He used to feel like the house was like the coffin his body was probably buried in. Now it felt more like he was grounded. Everyone else could come and go, live their lives as they pleased, but he was forbidden to go outside until he served his time. Which in this case, might be forever.

“Hmm.” Rey scootched forward on the step. It occurred to him then to find it odd that she was… calm. Hearing his voice before had scared her out of the house. What was different this time? She crossed her arms over her knees. “So we’re stuck with each other, since neither of us can leave.”

He wanted to tell her that wasn’t true. She was free to go anywhere her feet could take her, anytime she wanted. He didn’t even have feet. Not really. He was confined by the force in this house, and by his own rules to keep her space hers. He had memorized the main room. Every inch of the floor, every scratch on the coffee table, the wear and tear on her books. He even noticed when the dirt in Spike’s pot shifted. This didn’t anger him, though. He wouldn’t even know where to go if he could leave. Rey and this house were his world.

So instead, he agreed with her. _ “I suppose we are. ...You should know, I generally stay in this room. Like I said, I want you to have your privacy.” _

A slightly puzzled expression crossed her face. “You’re rather considerate, for a ghost, aren’t you?”

_ “Well, it’s not your fault I died. Just because I’m bound to the house doesn’t mean I’m haunting you.” _

“I guess that’s true.”

Her blasé response to his refusal to haunt her only fueled his curiosity about her demeanor. She was a fascinating woman.  _ “Rey, I have to ask,”  _ he drifted to the side, where her eyes had wandered,  _ “aren’t you afraid of me? You were before.” _

The question surprised her. Her right hand flexed in and out of a fist. “I don’t know.” She admitted. “Honestly, I don’t think I’m convinced this is really happening. I don’t even believe in ghosts. Poe was just trying to scare me, I…” She shook her head slowly, chewing on her bottom lip. “I don’t want to admit he was right.”

_“But he was.”_ _Believe in me, please. “I’m here. Can I prove it to you?”_

Rey considered, filling him with a different type of static. Anxiety. Every moment she didn’t speak drove the static louder until it filled him. He was so close. Close to being real for her. Being a bit more real for himself. Whatever she needed him to do to prove that he existed, he would do it, no matter how long it took.

In the end, she closed her eyes and buried a yawn in her elbow. “Not tonight. I have to work in the morning. Maybe we’ll do this again tomorrow.” She grabbed the railing to hoist herself up and stretched, popping something in her back. With a small moan, she started up the stairs, but hesitated about halfway up.

He was still there at the bottom, watching her go, a bit unsure himself if all that had really happened, and when she stopped his anxiety peaked so sharply he pushed her candy bag enough to crinkle and a few cups rattled in the kitchen.

“Goodnight, Ben.” Rey said, and continued up the steps.


	7. Part 4

“Goodnight, Ben.”

Those words stayed with him the whole night, as clearly as she had said them. When was the last time someone had said that to him? Had called him by name? He hadn’t even known it himself until Rey asked if that’s who he was. Ben. Ben Solo.

“Goodnight, Ben.”

God, it felt good to have an identity. Incomplete, but having a name almost meant more than any other detail. And having names for his family.

He had a lot of time to think about them as Halloween turned to November. Han and Leia. Mom and Dad. He tried to remember their voices from his last vision, and what his father looked like from his first. The pieces he put together  _ seemed _ right, but he wouldn’t let himself trust his memory. If he couldn’t even remember his own name, how was he supposed to remember his mother’s voice? His father’s face?

And he wondered why they weren’t here with him. They were all killed that night, so why was he alone? What made him a ghost, and not them? Or maybe they were, but they moved on, or… he really didn’t know.

But he did know who he was now. He was Ben. Rey gave that back to him.

He heard her get up at the usual time, shuffle through her clothes, go to the bathroom. Having that familiarity back was comforting, but now that she was up he had to face the possibility that she would refuse to believe that their conversation last night happened. She might chalk it up to paranoia or effects of Halloween and dismiss him entirely. And if she did…?

Well, he’d go back to staying in the corner and out of her way. He wouldn’t go back on what he said about wanting her to have her privacy. But he would also try even harder to break free of the house. Staying put was okay when he couldn’t speak or interact with Rey at all, but now that he could and had, he wasn’t sure he could keep it up knowing that he would truly be alone.

If he could have, he would have held his breath as he heard her come down the hall toward the stairs. This wouldn’t be their only moment. If she didn’t want to deal with any of this until she got home, he would understand, but the possibility of talking to her again was almost overwhelming. If she chose to talk to him again, that would change everything.

Her steps were slow, but soon enough he could see her feet, her legs, her stomach. That’s when she stopped. They were both still, wrapped in silence for about a minute, waiting for the other to make the first move. He wanted to say something, but it had to be her. If she didn’t want to engage, he wasn’t going to make her.

After a deep breath, she came all the way down. She held herself stiffly, and stared intently at his corner, then everywhere else. “Good morning?” She said hesitantly.

He almost exploded with joy.  _ “Good morning.” _

Rey flinched almost imperceptibly, she had probably only been half-expecting a response. But thankfully she relaxed as she came further into the room. “So that really did happen.”

_ “Yes.” _ He couldn’t keep the happiness from his voice if he tried.  _ “Is this proof enough for you that I’m real?” _

Rey sighed, which put a bit of a damper on his mood, but not nearly enough to kill it. She was back, she was talking, and she wasn’t afraid. All of that was more than he ever could have asked for.

“Maybe. I don’t have time for this right now, I have to go to work.” She disappeared into the kitchen, grabbing her usual handfull of granola bars which he assumed she ate on the car ride to wherever she worked, and a bottle of water. When she opened the pantry to get the box of granola bars, he noticed immediately the door at the bottom which she and Poe had failed to open a couple months ago. He remembered feeling back then that the door held answers, and felt the same now. Maybe when Rey became more accepting of him, he could ask her to try and open the door again, since he could not.

“We’ll talk again tonight, okay?” Rey continued when she came back out. She took a few pieces of candy from her bag on the table before she tugged on her shoes, glancing back at his corner again. “Ben? We’ll work out what to do when I get back.”

Ben. Every time she said his name it felt more real.  _ “I’ll be here.” _ He said.  _ “Waiting for you.” _

Ben hoped that she would hesitate, her desire to talk stronger than her need to leave for work, but that was not the case. She nodded and dismissed him with a swift, “Goodbye,” and nearly sped out the door to her car.

He watched her leave, as he often did, and stayed there by the window for the entire day waiting for her to return. He didn’t mind it, there was a new feeling in the air that he couldn’t quite place, but it was comfortable. As cars and people passed, even a dog at one point, he didn’t move an inch. He didn’t have to. He could have spent another week waiting for Rey. She was coming back, back to talk to him. That was worth the wait.

There were still a couple hours yet before Rey was supposed to come home when a car he’d never seen before turned into the driveway. Ben watched warily as an equally unknown man stepped out, clutching a piece of paper. He came up to the porch, and despite the fact that there was no car in sight other than his, he knocked on the front door. When there was no answer, of course, the man must have left the paper, because it was no longer in his hand when he crossed the yard back to his car and left.

_ “That was odd.” _ Ben murmured aloud. There was no glass in the door for him to look out, but he went to the door anyway, fruitlessly trying to press through and see what the man had left behind. But the door, like always, kept him inside. He supposed he would find out when Rey came home. So back to the window he went, to wait for her return.

The sun had just started to consider setting by then, so he could still clearly see her outside. Even from the house, she looked tired. No more than usual, but her usual was still pretty bad. He could hear exhaustion in her steps and read it in her every breath. Whatever her job was—he suspected some kind of service, based on the clothes she wore—it took too much from her.

She paused on the porch before coming inside, and as he hoped the piece of paper was in her hand. He was deeply curious about what it said, even if it was nothing special.

_ “Hello.” _ He said, not wanting to wait for her this time.  _ “How are you?” _

She didn’t react to hearing his voice this time, maybe she was used to it already? Instead she sighed, started working her shoes off with her feet. “Fine. It’s been a long day.”

Ben thought that she didn’t sound fine, but he postponed worrying about that to take a peek at the paper. It was a missing poster for what he assumed was the man’s dog. If he remembered his dog breeds correctly (of course he would remember something like  _ that _ but needed Rey to tell him his own name) it was a beagle. According to the poster its name was Bubbles.

_ “I think I saw that dog this morning.” _ He realized.  _ “Some man came by a few hours later and left that.” _

“What? Oh.” Rey held up the poster, apparently noticing it for the first time. She smiled slightly at the little dog. “It’s cute. I hope he finds his dog.”

_ “Me too.” _

Rey finished taking off her shoes and threw some things on the table: her keys, purse, the poster. She dug through her bag of candy and selected a chocolate bar, fiddled with the wrapper.

“I’d like to take a shower before we talk.” She paused. “Unless… you don’t watch that, do you?”

Appalled that she would even ask, although he understood the concern, Ben answered perhaps a little too quickly.  _ “No! No, of course not. I haven’t been upstairs at all since you moved in. I told you, I stay in here.” _

This, there was no way for him to prove, and he knew that. She would just have to trust him, which meant he would have to hope she was the kind of person who could trust in things she couldn’t see. That his word was enough for her.

It seemed to be, or she simply came to the same conclusion that he did, that he couldn’t prove he didn’t watch her in the shower, because she nodded and popped a piece of the chocolate in her mouth. “You’d better not. I’ll be back soon.”

Rey took quick showers, generally, so he knew she wouldn’t be long. He spent the time looking at the missing poster, mostly because it was something new to look at. The owner was offering $50 for the safe return of Bubbles, who according to the picture still had too-big puppy paws and the same eyes a two-year-old gives their mother when they want something. If the dog was young, hopefully it would find its way home or be found before something bad happened to it.

As he studied the photo, it changed. Suddenly he wasn’t seeing a little beagle, but a big, brown, scruffy mutt of some kind, with kind eyes and more fur than seemed reasonable.

_ “I think we had a dog.” _ Ben whispered. A dog that wasn’t there the night he and his parents died. Like a growing list of things, this was something he simply knew to be true. Though he didn’t know why. Was the dog dead itself? Staying with someone else?

Well if it wasn’t dead then, it probably was now. Not exactly a happy thought.

The beagle returned about the same time Rey turned off the water upstairs. He looked away to keep his mind off of the probably dead dog. Rey would be coming back soon, and he wanted to give her his full attention. He attempted to sort of sit on the couch—he’d been feeling a little more solid, but it was still hard to tell where his “body” would be, he mostly felt frayed—and waited. The shower had been quick, as he suspected, but she was dawdling a bit now. The moments between her steps were heavy with pause and she handled the doors with just as much deliberation.

The night before, he had asked her if she was afraid of him. She hadn’t said yes, but… she hadn’t exactly said no, either. He’d already scared her once, on accident, but was he doing it again now? His eagerness to approach her, was it only driving her away?

This thought kept him silent and somber until Rey descended the stairs, clad in sweatpants and an oversized sweater with her still-damp hair pulled loosely behind her. She stopped at the bottom again, as if needing access to the entire room.

“Where are you?” She asked.

“ _ On the couch _ .” Ben answered. Though that wasn’t entirely accurate, because really he just phased through all of the furniture. “ _ I was reading the poster _ .”

“Oh right, the dog.” Rey shifted her weight a bit on that last step. “So… I think I’m ready to admit that you’re real. Not to Poe, but I was thinking in the shower… I couldn’t make all this up myself.”

If he could, he would have leapt off the couch. “ _ Really? _ ”

“Yeah.”

Ben felt nearly full to bursting with excitement, he almost couldn’t contain it. He slipped up a little and the dog poster shifted on the table. “ _ Okay, so I’m real. What do you want to do with that? _ ”

Her face scrunched a bit. “I don’t know.” She sat on the step a couple up from where her feet were, crossing her arms over her knees. “You said you can’t leave, right?”

The insinuation was that she would prefer if he  _ could _ , and while he didn’t blame her, it still hurt a little.  _ “Right. Imagine if you were trapped in a room without windows or doors, it’s sort of like that. There’s something keeping me here.” _

“That’s kind of cliché, isn’t it?”

He chuckled. It wasn’t funny, none of this was, but it felt good to laugh. “ _ Yeah, I guess it is. But it’s true. _ ”

Rey sort of huffed, burying her face in her hands. “Sorry, I just… I’m talking to a dead man that I can’t even see, but that’s not the maddest part. The mad part is that I  _ believe _ you’re here.”

“ _ Well…” _ Ben drifted closer to her, but not too close. “ _ Rey, if the way you want to move forward is for me to go back to that corner and never speak to you again, that’s okay.” _

“No, no…” She dropped her hands. “That’s not fair. Besides, I don’t think I could forget you were here, even if you never spoke again. I’m way too paranoid.”

“ _ Lucky me.” _

She huffed again, but this time it was laughter. “Lucky. I thought I was the lucky one, buying this house. Turns out I got a free roommate, who isn’t so free, because he’s stuck here. And he’s dead!”

Rey was bouncing her leg, clearly nervous despite how calm she was trying to be. He wished he could help her, but he probably made it worse every time he  _ did _ speak, and if he didn’t? He might even drive her away again, maybe forever. Maybe it wasn’t fair for her to ask him to stay in a corner, but it wasn’t fair for him to have interacted with her in the first place.

_ “I’m sorry, Rey.” _ It was all he could think to say.  _ “It’s my fault.” _

She didn’t answer for a long, horrible moment. And then another. She must have agreed with him. Ben couldn’t blame her, because it was true.

Rey got up after a minute or so, murmuring something about needing a drink. He didn’t follow her. He went back to the window and listened to her mill around the kitchen.

_ “This was crazy, Spike. _ ” Ben sighed, poking at the little plant. He wished he could feel more than the presence of it. If the damn thing would just prick him, cause him pain, it would… be easier? Be something.  _ “I should’ve left her alone.” _

Nothing from Spike. There never would be, Spike was a plant, but sometimes he liked to pretend.

He looked back when he heard Rey shuffle out of the kitchen. She stood in the doorway, too-long sleeves hiding her hands and cupping her mug.

_ "You don’t have to do that, you know.” _ He said.  _ “Stand at the edge of the room like you might need to escape at any moment.” _

She took a sip from her mug, eyes wandering. His voice had moved. “Is that what I’m doing?” Her gaze landed somewhere between the couch and the corner, the two places she had known him to be. “I can’t escape you, not in the house. And you can’t escape me. We’re stuck here, together.”

Ben almost mentioned that he didn’t  _ want _ to escape her, that she was the best thing to happen to him in his… death. But he caught himself at the last second, and said instead, “ _ I’m the only one stuck here. You can do whatever you want.” _

“Mm, to an extent.” Rey kind of stiffened, almost like she was preparing to pounce. “You’re not on the couch anymore, are you?”

_ “No.” _

She nodded, and then took his place on the couch, exactly where he’d been “sitting.” Rey pulled her knees up to her chest and sort of settled her mug into the nest she made out of herself. Ben moved across from her, on the other side of the coffee table so that he could see her face. She looked… a little lost.

“I don’t really have any money.” She continued. “So, you know, I couldn’t take off to Australia or anything crazy like that.”

_ “Well, maybe not.” _ Rey flinched when he spoke, snapping her head up.  _ “But at least you can _ —”

“Okay, can you—can you  _ warn _ me when you’re going to move like that?” She shuddered. “It freaks me out.”

_ “Uh,” _ Ben stammered,  _ “yeah, sorry.” _

Rey gave herself a moment to calm down, drinking deeply from what he assumed was tea in her mug. She hovered for another long moment with the rim between her lips. “You know,” she said when she finally lowered it, “I can’t decide whether it’s better or worse that I can’t see you. I think worse, maybe.”

Ben remembered, back when she’d just moved in, that very brief moment when he thought he saw his own hand. Not that he could remember what it looked like, or if it really looked like anything at all. But it happened when he touched her, just to see if he could, and never again.

Should he tell her?

No, no, it wouldn’t do any good.

“ _ Why? _ ” He asked. “ _ Why would it be worse?” _

“Well, I don’t know where you are.” Rey shrugged. “I don’t know what you look like—I’ve actually been just picturing like, you know, a sheet with eyes. Like the decorations.”

She held her hand up, draping the fingers down to mimic the sheet, wiggling them in an imaginary breeze. Ben laughed, really laughed this time. The idea that he was some sort of children’s costume version of a ghost was absurd, but maybe a better alternative to all this nothing.

_ “Well, wait, didn’t you look up my family?” _ He asked, settling down.  _ “Weren’t there any pictures?” _

She shook her head. “No, just a shot of the house.”

_ “Oh.” _ He wasn’t apprehensive about her answer until the question was already out in the air, but when she said no, he realized… he wanted her to say yes. It was silly, she already said she didn’t know what he looked like, but maybe if there was a picture, if he could see himself, he might remember.

Rey took another sip of her drink. “You okay?”

_ “I don’t know what I look like either, that’s all. I didn’t even know my name until you said it.” _

“Really?”

_ “Yeah.” _

“Huh.” Rey leaned forward to get a piece of candy from the bag that was still on the table and set down her mug. Her hair was falling out of the tie. “Look, Ben,” she pressed some emphasis into his name, “I think we can figure this out, but I need you to do something for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all! Hope you're liking the story so far. I'm pretty proud of it, especially since it is a gift for my friend :)  
> Unfortunately, I have to say that there might not be a chapter next week. College caught up to me faster than I thought it would, so I haven't been able to get as ahead as I wanted. If I'm not able to finish the next part in time, the rest of the story will just be posted as I finish it, and not on this weekly schedule. I'm sorry. But believe me, I'm not giving up! This is already an incredibly late Christmas gift as it is, and it's my main focus outside of homework.  
> Seven weeks is a pretty good streak I'd say, and I hope you stick around to see how this ends. It's a real doozy ;)


	8. Part 4-2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, folks! It's been way longer than I planned, but you know. Anyway, here's a new chapter! Enjoy!

Before she went to bed, Rey set some ground rules.

First, as she said before, Ben needed to let her know where he was since he was invisible. She felt it would be easier for her to deal with living with a ghost if she could at least know that, and he thought that was fair, so he agreed.

Second, he was to keep up his self-imposed rule to stay downstairs and away from her bedroom and bathroom. This was also not an issue. He hadn’t thought for a moment that revealing himself to her and beginning to speak would give him the right to invade her space just because she knew he existed. He assured her that he was more than comfortable to continue that arrangement, it was enough to have her acknowledge him. In fact that’s more than he expected from her.

And third, he was not allowed to speak when her friends were over. This one he protested, but only a little.

_ “Why not?” _ He’d asked.  _ “They already think your house is haunted, is confirming their suspicions so wrong?” _

“It’s not that it’s  _ wrong _ , I just don’t want to deal with them right now,” was her answer. “They’re impossible to handle when they’re smug.”

That seemed fair enough, and besides, he didn’t really care about her friends in the first place. Rose was too much for him, and Finn and Poe were… friendly. So with that, he accepted all of her terms. He probably would have accepted anything she asked of him, really, as long as it meant she would still talk to him.

After she’d gone to bed, Ben went back to his corner and quietly narrated to Spike everything that he’d been able to notice about her while they talked. The way her hair dried and how she kept her fingers out of her long sweater sleeves—just the tips—and tapped them softly on her mug when she was thinking. She got more comfortable with him, he reported with a hint of glee, as their conversation wore on. Her knees came down from her chest until she was sitting criss-cross, more open. She stopped sitting like she had to protect herself.

_ “I think, on some level, she believes I won’t hurt her.” _ He said to Spike.  _ “Otherwise she would have left again, right?” _

He took Spike’s silence as agreement.

_ “Right. She’s still here. It’s a good sign.” _

It was around midnight when Ben heard a noise outside, and for just a few seconds he forgot he was dead. He jumped, much like Rey did when her shampoo fell, running through possible scenarios of danger. When he did remember, it didn’t make him feel much better. Nothing could hurt him anymore, but Rey was still alive, and the only thing he could really protect her from was himself.

But he needn’t have worried. When he looked out the window to see what the noise was, it turned out to just be a little dog.

Wait…

Ben went to the table to confirm what he thought. Yes, it was!

_ “Bubbles!” _

The puppy was curled up on the porch, snuggled fast against the wooden railing. The noise he’d heard must have been Bubbles bumping into a plastic pumpkin Rey had left outside, because it was askew and a couple inches off from where it had been before. The poor thing was shivering.

Ben was possessed by a great urge to go outside and pick up the puppy, make sure it was okay, but of course, he couldn’t. He was trapped inside the house. And even if he wasn’t, he couldn’t do anything. He’d probably just scare it.

Well, there was… one thing he could do. He didn’t want to, but he couldn’t just leave the puppy out there in the cold to freeze, especially since he knew it had a home to go back to.

_ “Rey?” _ He called.

Not very loudly, he wasn’t surprised when nothing happened. But he was nervous. He had just promised not to bother her when she was upstairs, he didn’t want to break that immediately. No one else could help Bubbles, though, only her, so he tried again. Louder.

_ “Rey?” _

Bubbles whined pitifully. The sound tugged at his… metaphorical heart. Calling to Rey wasn’t going to be enough, he wasn’t going to be able to wake her up that way. At least, not from downstairs.

He had no idea what was on the second floor, not beyond what he’d seen watching Poe fix up the house. But that whole time was a blur to him. He hadn’t been strong enough to really know what was going on, and he couldn’t remember what the house had looked like from back when he was alive. For months now, his whole world had been two rooms and the view from the windows. It was hard to even imagine something beyond.

But he knew. To help Bubbles, he’d have to break Rey’s second rule. He’d have to go upstairs.

It felt wrong, drifting slowly up the stairs, away from the familiar and into the unknown, forbidden area of the house. But a little silly, too. This was Rey’s house, now, but before it had belonged to his family. He was pretty sure he’d grown up here, at least partially. When had the familiarity and comfort gone away? Had it died with him?

If he weren’t a ghost, the stairs would be creaking under his feet, probably waking Rey before he ever got close. He almost wished that were the case. If she woke up now, he wouldn’t feel so guilty.

Ben felt like he was holding a breath he hadn’t taken when he finally reached the top of the stairs. There was only a hallway, painted white and empty of any decorations. Three doors faced him, two at opposite ends of the hall and one offset to the left. The furthest door left led to the bathroom, that he knew (besides the fact that it was hanging slightly open), and behind the opposite door he sensed nothing.

Which meant there was only one place Rey could be.

_ “Rey?”  _ He called from outside her door. He was very, very aware of his proximity to it, and focused intently on not phasing through. Just being in the hallway was dangerous enough, if he actually went into her room, she might find a way to kill him a second time.

Luckily, this time he heard stirring from inside. Sheets slipped against each other, almost hissing, as if she were rolling over.

_ “Rey,” _ He said yet again,  _ “wake up. I need you.” _

There was more rustling before her feet hit the floor. He backed up, closer to the stairs, farther away from his transgression. Hopefully attempting to rescue a puppy was a good enough excuse to earn her forgiveness, so soon after setting the rules.

Rey emerged from her room, disheveled from sleep, eyes only half-open. She yawned, glancing up and down the hallway. “Ben?”

_ “I’m sorry.” _ He apologized before she could get upset with him.  _ “I’m here, by the stairs. I didn’t want to wake you, but that dog, the one from the poster, it’s on the porch.” _

“Wait.” Rey yawned, tugging at the collar of her shirt. “What?”

_ “The dog, Bubbles. It’s on the porch.” _

“Oh… Oh!”

It seemed that for the moment, Ben was off the hook. Rey sped down the stairs, passing halfway through him as she went, footsteps thudding unevenly when, as he started to follow her, they changed.

_ “Mom!” _

Ben froze. Was that… him?

_ “I’m coming, Ben, hold on.” _

_ Mom… _

Suddenly, the little boy from before appeared at the midway point of the steps, climbing up on all fours. It was him, but he didn’t recognize himself. His younger self. The boy’s messy black hair hid his face as he climbed, and his back was turned when he ran down the hall to the third door, the one with nothing behind it.

_ “Mom! Hurry up!” _

_ “I’m coming, I’m coming!” _

If he’d had a heart, it would have been thudding in his ears. Still, he felt something, something building up inside as his mother’s footsteps came closer and closer to the stairs…

“Ben! Where are you?”

In a moment he was beside Rey again, watching her bring the wriggling puppy inside and trying not to wonder what sort of face matched his mother’s voice. Trying not to wonder if she’d still be there if he turned around.  _ “Next to you.” _ He replied.  _ “Is it okay?” _

“I don’t know, I’ve never had a dog before.” Rey kept changing her grip, clearly unsure how to hold Bubbles. “I think so. Let me just…” She checked the front door closed with her rear, and then set the beagle puppy on the floor.

Bubbles didn’t seem to know what to do either and just stood there, eyes wide with fear. Rey watched for a moment, then stepped carefully around, whispering about calling the owner.

Ben moved to a position that felt like kneeling, and reached out to poor Bubbles. The dog probably didn’t know he was there, and trying to comfort it might just scare it further, but he couldn’t help himself. It was so scared.

_ “Hey.” _ He whispered softly.  _ “You’re okay, Bubbles. We’re gonna get you home.” _

It was the strangest thing. When he spoke, Bubbles looked at him.  _ Really _ looked at him. And when he touched it—finding that he could, just like Spike and Rey—it didn’t really react. It was like Bubbles could connect his voice with his touch… could it  _ see _ him?

“Hi. Um, sorry for calling so late, did you lose a dog? Yeah, Bubbles, I think she’s here at my house. Of course. I live…”

_ “Hear that, Bubbles?” _ Ben said, petting her. He could actually see her fur moving where his fingers would be, felt like they were.  _ “She’s calling your owner, you’re gonna be okay.” _

Bubbles kept staring at him. He looked all around, trying to determine if there was somehow a part of him that was visible but as far as he could tell, there wasn’t. He moved a little, and her eyes followed him. There could be no doubt about it.

_ “Uh, Rey?” _

“Yeah?” She came over to them and sat down beside Bubbles. Ben moved away when she went to pet the puppy, so they wouldn’t cross through each other again. “Her owner’s on his way. You really worried him, Bubbles.” Rey switched to a baby-talk tone to talk to the puppy, scratching her behind her ears. “Apparently she’s supposed to be a birthday present for his niece, but she’s been staying at his house she doesn’t get suspicious.”

_ “Rey, I think she can see me.” _

Rey almost looked directly at him, too, so closely that he believed for a fraction of a second that he was the only one who  _ couldn’t _ see. “What are you talking about?”

_ “I’m not crazy.” _ He insisted.  _ “Look.” _ After making sure Bubbles was still looking, he shifted to the side enough that her head turned, and then moved back. Bubbles made the tiniest “yip” he had ever heard.  _ “See? She was following me.” _

Rey scanned the whole room, as if he might suddenly appear for her, too. “Well, they do say that animals and small children sometimes see things adults can’t, like spirits. I guess that’s true.”

Ben had never heard that before, but it sounded like something people might say. And, well, there was no way Bubbles _ wasn’t _ seeing him.  _ “I’m jealous. Too bad we didn’t find a lost toddler instead, they might have been able to tell me what I look like.” _

Rey snorted. “Well, I’m glad we didn’t find a lost toddler, because that’s horrible.” She rubbed her thumb over Bubbles’ head. “It’s bad enough a puppy was missing. Poor thing. But someone misses you, huh? It’s gonna be okay…”

Her voice softened for the last part, and something about it was… sad. He wondered if Rey had someone she missed, or someone who missed her. He didn’t feel it was his place to pry about her life before the house, so he didn’t ask. Especially when he had nothing to offer her in return.

“Watch her for a minute, will you?” Rey didn’t give him a chance to answer, disappearing into the kitchen.

_ “All I do is watch.” _ Ben told Bubbles. She tilted her head.  _ “I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m dead.” _ He reached out to touch her again, managed to move one of her floppy ears. She was probably soft, but he couldn’t feel those kinds of things, only pressure. Only presence.  _ “I can’t do much more than that. Just watch, and talk to her.” _

Rey came back then, with a cereal bowl between her hands. She set it down in front of Bubbles and a few drops of water splashed out. “There you go.” She sat back down. “I thought she was probably thirsty. I’m sure she’s hungry, too, but I don’t have dog food.”

Bubbles investigated the bowl hesitantly at first, but as soon as she realized it was just water, she began lapping it up like crazy, splashing more onto the floor. Rey laughed softly, propping herself up on one hand. He imagined taking it.

_ “I’m sorry I woke you, Rey.” _ He said instead.  _ “I’m sorry I went upstairs. I broke your rule.” _

She looked toward his voice. Not quite as closely as last time. “No, Ben, it’s alright. You had a good reason. I trust you not to do it every night.”

His whole being shuddered. She trusted him?  _ “I won’t.” _ He promised.  _ “I really tried not to this time, either. I called for you, but it was taking too long. I would have taken care of Bubbles myself, but…” _

“Yeah, I know. You’re stuck inside.” Rey returned to watching Bubbles, who was now comfortable enough to sniff around for whatever dogs found interesting. “It’s alright, really. I’m glad you did. Who knows when she would have been seen next? You did the right thing, Ben.”

_ “Ben!” _

_ “Ben!” _

Did he do the right thing?

Bubbles’ owner was out of breath when he showed up at the door, thanking Rey over and over for finding his niece’s dog. The puppy went to him willingly and as he held her he apologized just as much but he forgot his wallet he couldn’t give her the reward he’d drop it off first thing in the morning, though. Rey told him not to worry about it, she was just glad she could help. He insisted.

Ben retreated back to his corner while they talked, hardly hearing a word of it. Something was wrong. He’d done something wrong. Was that why he was a ghost, while his parents were nowhere to be seen? But what… what was it? What had he done? Why couldn’t he remember?

When the man left and Rey closed the door, she immediately yawned, wide and long, as if she’d used up the last of whatever energy she’d gained before he woke her up and interrupted her sleep. She probably had, they didn’t stop talking until around ten. She leaned against the door by her forearms until the man’s car could no longer be heard driving away.

“Alright, back to bed.” She yawned again. “Talk to you again tomorrow?” When he didn’t answer, she turned back to the room. “Ben?”

_ “Huh?” _

“Talk to you tomorrow?”

_ “Yes, of course.” _ Ben kept his gaze to the floor, which she would never notice.  _ “Tomorrow.” _


	9. Part 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to keep apologizing for how long this took, because if I do, you'll all have to read an apology every time I post, and I don't want to make you do that, so consider this an outstanding apology for the rest of the story, lol.
> 
> But I hope you enjoy!

They did talk tomorrow. And the next day, and the next. They talked about anything but his being dead, mostly. They talked like normal people. Rey told him about her days at work and what her friends were up to, how she really should get around to cleaning her car. Once, after another lament about the state of her car, Rey expressed surprise that her cactus was still alive.

“I really am shocked, honestly.” She said. “I’m not very good at taking care of things. I just get so busy, and then I’m too tired to keep up.”

_ “Spike is resilient.” _ Ben assured her.  _ “But I can remind you when he needs water.” _

Rey threw an amused yet puzzled glance towards his voice. “Wait a minute,” her voice held the beginnings of laughter, “you call my cactus Spike?”

Ben had no real reason to be embarrassed, but he found that he was. He sort of spread himself thinner.  _ “I do.”  _ He admitted.  _ “Have I not said that before?.” _

“Oh, I would have remembered that.” Rey covered a snort with her hand, still holding back the laughter clearly bubbling within her. “That’s adorable. Spike. I love it.”

Whether or not she was serious, her acceptance warmed him.

Talking to Rey like that day after day was like physical therapy after a serious injury. Nearly every day Ben felt stronger, a little bit different. One morning after Rey had left for work, he suddenly realized he knew where his arms were. Not where they  _ should _ be, he’d had that feeling before, but where they  _ were _ . He extended one to Spike and felt the pressure of the little green life right where he thought he should, where his hand ended and his wrist began. And another day, after Rey had gone to sleep, he discovered his feet.

That was the most telling discovery since he first spoke. Knowing where his feet were gave him the ability to position himself like a person. He could stand.

So he stood in the middle of the kitchen that night. He didn’t think he was quite whole, he still couldn’t particularly make sense of his torso, or his head, or really even the rest of his legs, but he did know that he was tall. Taller than Rey, certainly. He tried to walk, but without more leg, it still felt like he was floating.

All of these things he kept from Rey. A part of him was worried that if she knew he was slowly gaining a more solid form it would  _ really _ scare her off. An intangible ghost was one thing, but one who could touch, maybe even feel? That may have been too far for her, may have pushed him from reluctant housemate to a claustrophobic threat.

But that choice wasn’t his to make for long.

With Halloween past and Thanksgiving fast approaching, Rey’s friends evidently decided that she would host the traditional dinner this year in lieu of Rose, who was the usual holder of that honor. To break in her new house, they said.

“Y’know, they’re all lucky I get the day off this year,” Rey said a few nights before the big day, stirring a mug of hot chocolate above the kitchen sink, her Fresh Pine Forest candle burning nearby, which smelled nicer than either of them expected. “I usually have to work. Wouldn’t be surprised if they engineered this somehow.”

Ben highly doubted that, but he knew she wasn’t serious.  _ “Do you not want to host?” _

“Mmm…” Rey turned to his voice near the table, taking a small sip of cocoa from her stirring spoon. “It’s not really that. Rose always goes all-out with the decorations, the food.” She gestured to the room with the spoon. “This place just doesn’t really feel the same. I don’t want their Thanksgiving to suffer because I’m hosting instead of her.”

_ “I don’t think it will.” _ Said Ben honestly.  _ “From what you told me, they seem excited to have it here. Rose could have easily hosted again.” _

She shrugged, not completely convinced. “What are you going to do while they’re here, hang out with Spike?”

There was a note of teasing in her tone. He almost regretted letting Spike’s name slip.  _ “I don’t know. But you asked me not to reveal myself to your friends, so I won’t.” _

“I wasn’t worried about that,” said Rey. He wasn’t quite convinced, either. “But that’s good to hear. You know…” She dropped her spoon back into the sink. “If you want to wait upstairs instead of sitting down here with us, that would be okay.”

_ “No, no, I’ll be fine. It might be nice to be around other people, even if they can’t know I’m here.” _

Something odd crossed Rey’s face, something he couldn’t quite read. She tried to hide it in her mug. “If you say so. They’re going to be over for a couple of hours though, you might change your mind. Is there some way you can let me know if you do without talking?”

He didn’t know what she was expecting. A note written in steam on the window, float a small object? Their only method of communication was speech, how else could he—

Wait.

_ “There is… one way.” _ He said.  _ “But I don’t know if you’ll like it.” _

Rey frowned. “What does that mean?”

Ben tapped his fingers soundlessly on her table.  _ “I could touch you. Just… on the shoulder or something.” _

She raised an eyebrow. “You’re right, I don’t like that.” She took a bigger sip of her cocoa, almost a gulp, holding onto it a little longer than necessary. When she finally swallowed, she asked, “How do you know you can do that? I mean, you had to practice talking, so…”

He followed her train of thought before she got to the end of the track. He wanted to protest, but instead, he had to confess.  _ “Well, I was able to pet that dog we found a couple of weeks ago, and I can touch Spike.” _ His hand slipped through the table.  _ “And… I can’t lie to you, Rey. One night while you were asleep on the couch, I touched your arm. Just for a moment,” _ he insisted,  _ “just to see if I could.” _

As he expected, she acted on her first and most reasonable reaction, which was anger. She set her mug back on the counter and crossed her arms tightly around herself. “Are you serious? Why would you do that?”

_ “I told you, just to see if I could. I’m sorry.” _

She shuddered. “You can’t just  _ do _ that, Ben. I was asleep?”

_ “Yes…” _

She pressed her lips tightly together; he could tell she was trying to decide how to deal with this. He wouldn’t blame her, no matter what she decided. He might have told her sooner, but he couldn’t talk back then, and once he could, he was more concerned with making sure he wasn’t scaring her out of her own home than anything else. He had mostly forgotten about that incident, not intentionally keeping it from her. But from her perspective, maybe it looked that way.

“Could you do it now?” Rey asked suddenly, trying to hide the hesitation in her voice. “Touch me, I mean, so I know what it feels like?”

If he could have, Ben would have blinked in surprise. That… wasn’t what he expected.  _ “Are you sure?” _

She shook her head. “Not at all. But if we’re going to be on the same page, you can’t be the only one who knows. Would you do it, Ben? For me?”

_ I would do anything you asked, Rey _ .

But he didn’t say that.

_ “Alright, I will. It’ll be your left arm, okay?” _

She nodded, keeping her eyes open wide as if she might be able to see him. He moved forward carefully, as though that were true. He tried not to be this close to her normally, so breaching this habit not only on purpose, but with her permission, would have taken his breath away if he had any.

Ben was able to reach out with intention, with awareness as to how close his fingers were to her sweater. He couldn’t leave her waiting too long, he could already see the tension building in her body, but it wasn’t as though this was easy for him, either. There was no convincing himself there was a fluke after this, no way to lie to himself.

He touched her arm slowly, but as firmly as he could muster, so there could be no mistake. Rey stiffened at first, but like everything else he had shown to her, adjusted quickly. She reached her own hand up to where his was, and for a moment, they were both in the same place.

_ “Mom? Dad?” _

But the house was quiet.

Ben pulled his hand away, his energy shuddered.  _ “Was that alright?”  _ he asked.

Rey sent a funny look toward him, and something in her eyes made him wonder if she’d heard the same thing he did. His voice, but not his, echoing distant and… empty. Calling out in silence for his parents.

“It was… cold,” she finally said, rubbing her shoulder where he’d touched her, “just like they say. I guess if you have to signal me, that’ll work.”

With that look still in her eye, and mug abandoned, Rey padded quietly out of the kitchen. Ben watched her nest herself into the couch. She stared at the blank wall ahead of her, not moving, not making a sound. Each passing second had him more convinced that she had heard. Or maybe, had he done something wrong by touching her? It seemed both his life and his death were filled with mistakes, he wouldn’t be surprised.

He sighed, and began to make his way toward her.  _ “Rey—” _

“We’re not that different, are we?”

Her words surprised him, and for a moment he said nothing.  _ “What do you mean? You’re alive, Rey, and I’m dead. I’m rather glad we’re so different.” _

“Dead… right,” she murmured. “I know it sounds crazy, but I… sometimes I forget. It’s so easy to talk to you, and sometimes if you’re in just the right spot, I can pretend you’re just standing behind me instead of… you know, being a ghost.”

He wished he could say the same. He had never forgotten, not for one moment since he accepted the truth. He couldn’t remember what it was like to be alive, but he knew it wasn’t so broad. He knew Rey couldn’t feel the house the way he could, and she had human limits. She needed food, water, sleep, bathroom breaks. He simply existed.

“I heard that voice, Ben. That was you, right?”

_ I knew it. “Yes, it was.” _

Rey held her legs in close, gaze still focused on the wall. “How?”

_ “I wish I had an answer for you,” _ said Ben honestly.  _ “But that’s not the first time it’s happened. I’ve had a few… visions, I guess you could call them, of my past, I think. Mostly voices. Mine, my parents…”  _ He trailed off. There was nothing more to say. All he had seen and heard was bits and pieces of a life he couldn’t remember, that didn’t even feel like it belonged to him. What did he need to know, anyway? His whole family was dead.

Rey frowned, but just for a second. Then she relaxed, sinking a little further into the couch. “At least you have something. I don’t remember my parents, they disappeared when I was little. I always thought they’d come back for me… but they never did.” She shook her head. “I fantasized for years that they would knock on the door of whatever home I was in and say, ‘There’s been some mistake, we want out daughter back.’ It was stupid. They’re probably dead, too…”

Ben considered what she’d told him. Despite all their talks, she hadn’t told him much about her past before, other than her living conditions at her old apartment. Judging by the pain in her words, he could understand why. She still wasn’t over it.

He wished to reach out for her again, but he wouldn’t do that to her.  _ “Is that what you meant before, about us being similar? We’re both orphans.” _

She choked out a sound that almost sounded like a laugh. “Yeah. But I guess you can’t be an orphan if you’re dead too, can you?”

_ “Probably not.”  _ Though he hadn’t really thought about it that way. Was he an orphan? He was an adult when his parents died, he was fairly certain of that, so could he be? Even if he could, as Rey said, he was also dead. At this point, did it matter?

They were both quiet for a while, but it wasn’t a bad or uncomfortable silence, it was just them. They did talk a lot, yes, but there was plenty of this as well. Ben’s favorite moments of quiet were when Rey was completely lost in whatever she was doing, even if she was just doing the dishes. Sometimes, when she wasn’t too tired, she liked to get out a little book and sketch. Just random things, as far as he had seen, although one time she drew a cartoon-like ghost she’d dubbed “Ben” to make him laugh. It worked.

Rey’s phone buzzed on the coffee table, startling her and breaking the silence when she gasped. She muttered grumpily under her breath, and after reading the message, she laid back with a heavy sigh.

“Just Rose,” she reported, waving the phone in the air, “she wants to know when I’ve got free time so she can help me with the food. I guess it’s official, they’re coming here…”

_ “You knew that already.” _

“Yeah, but I was sort of hoping they’d change their minds.”

_ “They don’t seem the sorts to do that.” _

She let out a sort of amused hum, turning her attention back to her phone. Her thumbs hovered over the keys. “No, they’re really not.”


	10. Part 5-2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day everyone!

Rose actually came over three times before Thanksgiving, which was a lot for Ben to handle. He spent each visit in his corner listening, following Rey’s rule of not revealing himself to her friend. Which by itself was fine, he’d spent plenty of time there before, but he’d gotten used to being a bit more free, and especially used to being able to talk to Rey. When Rose was around, he couldn’t even talk to Spike.

Her last visit was the day before Thanksgiving, and the whole house smelled like food. Rey told him there were some things they had to prepare early, and some things she’d have to finish the next day, but that night Rose was doing most of the work. Rey had an early shift that morning and she was exhausted, so she was given the easy jobs, mostly compiling ingredients while Rose actually put them together.

“This is going to be awesome,” Rose declared, “really. I know I say that every year, but how many people can say they’ve had Thanksgiving in a haunted house?”

Ben imagined that Rey rolled her eyes before she said, “I am so done with you people. When will you give up this stupid haunted house nonsense?”

“When you can prove we’re wrong.”

Rey would never let him, but Ben would have loved to prove them right. Whisper in their ears, float a spoon, something to have a little fun. What was his—Finn, he would lose his mind. Rose and Poe probably would too, much as they wanted to believe. Being confronted with the bizarre was different from speculating. He would know.

“Anyway,” Rose continued, “I know you’re not the biggest fan of this whole thing, but I’m hoping it makes this place feel more like home. It’s no fun if your house just feels like a place to put your stuff.”

Ben kept to himself in his corner, finding it easier to confine himself to the space than usual—physically speaking—and so he couldn’t see into the kitchen, not any further than the doorframe allowed. He could see Rose at the counter, her hands in a bowl of something-or-other, but Rey, Rey he couldn’t see. She was sitting at the table. But when Rose said this, she leaned out. She was stretching, so Rose wouldn’t think twice about it, but she looked directly at his corner. He could imagine that she was looking into his eyes.

“I wouldn’t say it feels like that here,” Rey said, lingering for a moment, then sitting back normally. “There’s something about this place.”

Rose turned to smile at her. “That’s good! I’m happy for you, Rey. And I promise, we’ll still do Christmas at my place. I won’t make you host again.”

“Sure. This year.”

“Hey!”

It was long past dark when Rose finally left. Rey walked her to the door and waved goodbye, watching until her car was out of sight, but as soon as she could, she leaned against the door and sighed through at least half her lung capacity.

_ “It seems to me your friends shouldn’t be so exhausting,” _ Ben remarked.

Rey shook her head. “It’s not her, it’s just been a long day. I’m ready to be alone.”

She looked up almost immediately, a note of regret in her eyes. There was probably an apology to follow, but he didn’t need one. They’d talked many times about this. If it was in his power, he would have left months ago, but as it was he did his best to give her space and privacy.

_ “If you’d like me to go somewhere else, I can.” _ he offered.  _ “I can hide out in that room upstairs you never use. You’d have the whole rest of the house to yourself.” _

“Ben, you don’t have to—”

_ “Yes, Rey, I do.” _ He began to move toward the stairs.  _ “This is your home, you’re allowed to want to be alone in it. I’ll just be upstairs, you’ll forget I’m even here.” _

Rey followed him with her eyes as best she could, bottom lip between her teeth and one hand still holding her against the door. That she hesitated so much even to allow herself some peace made him a little sad. She didn’t need to worry so much about him, about making sure he was comfortable. He was dead. She wasn’t. He’d run out of chances to live his life the way he wanted, but she still had an infinite number. None of them should be thrown out because of him.

“Well… alright.” She drew her hand back to her side. “I just need to sit for a little while, you don’t have to stay there all night. Honestly, I might pass out on the couch.”

He believed it, she slept on the couch quite often lately. It was so easy to sit down after a long day and just… drift. Some nights he wished he was able to draw a blanket over her.

_ “Take as much time as you need, Rey. I’ll be alright.” _

He hummed a soft song all the way up the stairs so she would know when he was gone. He watched for a few moments when he reached the top, unable to stop himself. She did too, then made up for that sigh with a deep breath and trudged over to the couch. She would be asleep within an hour, if he had to guess. Despite what she said, he would give her the whole night alone. It couldn’t be easy, knowing he was there while she slept. Especially after he’d admitted to touching her arm without her knowledge.

She should have been more angry at him for that. There was no way to put it that didn’t sound… creepy.

The extra room at the end of the hall could hardly be called a storage room, but that’s essentially what it was. A few scattered boxes, and a bag she’d thrown her summer clothes into when it got cold. There was plenty of room with the rest of her clothes to keep them out, but she said they just got in her way. He wondered what was in the boxes, considering how little was in the rest of the house even after all these months, but he wouldn’t peek or pry. He did enough of that just by being there.

Instead, Ben found another corner nearest the window, right beside a patch on the floor where the moonlight hit with a familiar softness. He could hear the breeze brushing through the trees outside, a breeze he’d never feel again and for a moment, he thought he heard his mother’s voice in the whispers of the leaves. Or maybe he really did, it wouldn’t be the first time.

* * *

Ben stayed upstairs until he heard Rey get up, get dressed, and get to work in the kitchen. Her footsteps were slow, but he couldn’t tell from where he was if that was because she was still tired, or full of dread. Probably a mixture of both.

He came downstairs when he heard the kettle whistling, probably for a morning cup of tea. Humming the same song as before so as not to spook her, he stopped at the doorway to the kitchen.

_ “Good morning. Did you sleep well?” _

Rey looked up reflexively, empty mug in hand. “Hey. Yeah, fine, I suppose. Shouldn’t have slept on the couch, my neck’s all sore now.”

_ “Yeah, that’ll happen.” _ Ben was glad to see that she’d at least tried to be festive, her sweater sported a cartoon turkey.  _ “Maybe try the bed tonight.” _

“Maybe. I told you you didn’t have to stay upstairs.”

_ “I know. But time runs a little differently for me, remember? I hardly noticed.” _

“Right.” 

They didn’t talk much more as Rey made her tea, her breakfast, and whatever else needed to be heated up or prepared for the holiday meal later. Ben didn’t pay much attention to that part, why would he? He couldn’t eat. Instead he decided to enjoy the stillness of the house. Rey’s friends muddled up the energy here, made him feel like he was being pulled in multiple directions, or listening to half a dozen radios all tuned to different stations. He was able to get used to it, manage the volume, but it was nicer when it was just the two of them.

He drifted around the space, absentmindedly humming his little song in contrast to the clinks and clanks coming from the kitchen, until suddenly those noises stopped. He didn’t think much of it, Rey was probably done cooking.

Which she was, coming out to the living room with a second cup of tea in her hands and taking her usual place on the couch. She tapped her fingers over the ceramic mug. “That’s new, the song. Just make it up?”

Ben found himself shrugging, or an approximation at least, an action which really only benefited him.  _ “No, I don’t think so. I think it’s a song my mother knew, or maybe my father. I don’t even remember the whole thing.” _

Rey snorted into her mug. “I can tell. You’ve only been singing about six notes. Over and over and over...”

He chuckled.  _ “I never claimed to be a good singer.” _

“I never said you were bad. Just repetitive. A one-hit wonder.”

_ “You wound me, Rey.” _

She smirked. “All part of the plan.”

_ “Oh, you have a plan now, do you?” _

Rey swirled the tea in her mug with a wicked grin and a purposeful sip. “Of course. What better way to end a holiday than with a pissed-off ghost?”

It was his turn to smirk.  _ “So now you  _ want _ to prove this house is haunted? Are you sure about that?” _ Ben tried his best to move something for her—a paper on the coffee table. His fingers slipped through, but there was enough resistance to send it a few inches across the wood.  _ ”They’ll never leave you alone. ‘We told you so, Rey, your house is haunted. Have you seen the ghost? Have you tried to communicate with it? Do you think its some weird old man?’” _

His voice was mocking, most definitely rude, but Rey was laughing. A real laugh that almost spilled her tea. It was rare, but oh, when she laughed like that she rivaled the sun. She calmed down far too quickly, smiling toward the sound of his voice. “You’re right, you’re right. They would never let me live it down.”

_ “Exactly. And to be completely honest,”  _ he said,  _ “it’s strange enough for me that you know I’m here, much less anyone else. I rather like things the way they are.” _

A familiar silence. Rey nodded. “I do too, I think.”

* * *

Unfortunately, things didn’t stay the way they were for long enough. Ben had said before that being around other people might not be so bad, but as their footsteps sounded off the porch, his whole being felt heavy with dread, so much that Rey noticed, and glanced back as she approached the door.

“Just go upstairs, it’s okay,” she assured softly.

And then her friends were inside.

Their greetings were loud and physical and backed up by the rustling of plastic bags which presumably held their donations to this meal. Finn took these to the kitchen after his turn smothering Rey with hugs, but Poe and Rose stayed behind.

“We weren’t sure where you wanted us all to sit, but I’ve got some extra chairs in my truck,” Poe offered. “Just in case.”

Rey smiled for him. Ben retreated into his corner. “Thanks, Poe, but I think we’ll be alright. I thought we’d pull my dining chairs out here by the couch, that way there’s more room for the food in the kitchen. Besides, it was tight enough in there the other day with just me and Rose, it’d be too cramped with all four of us.”

“Well then I claim the couch for the girls,” Rose piped up, not-so-subtly drifting toward the couch to put her hand on the back.

Her husband Finn, having overheard, returned with a chair in each hand. “That seems fair, since you two made all the food.” He placed the chairs a bit loosely opposite the couch, as if unsure he was allowed to put them there.

Rose hit a beat excitedly into the couch. “Well in your defense, you would have helped if I let you.”

“At least you admit it.”

“Of course I do!”

It struck Ben again just how staggeringly bizarre he found these people. It was striking because they really weren’t all that weird, all things considered. They had jobs, relationships, friends, all perfectly normal things. What he found so bizarre, he supposed, was how friendly they were. He couldn’t imagine being so excited to see someone, anyone. Being so animated, eager… it was just odd.

From the corner, he watched them get ready to eat. Watched Rey. Despite all her reservations about having her friends here, she seemed relaxed, comfortable. She leaned against Rose, laughed and smiled openly, even played along when Poe pretended to make his plate float through the air. Ben rolled his eyes.

When they all had their food, sat around the coffee table, things finally calmed down a bit. After all, it was difficult to be loud when stuffing your face with food. He sort of wished he could smell what they’d made, because it  _ looked _ appetizing… in more of a conceptual way, because of course hunger meant nothing to him.

Aside from their slightly unconventional setup, this Thanksgiving dinner was everything that he would have expected. He had memories—or he thought he did—of other such holidays in this house. Of his parents flirting and fighting in the kitchen, of himself as a boy trying to help. He had a strong sense that they’d kept their dining table out here in the main room, unlike Rey, and had to restrain himself from drifting forward to hover in the same place as his memories. The boy he saw sat across from his father, with his mother at the head of the table, and… there was someone else? A neighbor perhaps? A cousin, an uncle? No, probably just his mind creating someone in that empty space to mirror the four people that ate before him now.

Probably.

But he couldn’t shake the echo of this memory, and grew uncomfortable existing invisible, uninvited at this intimate gathering. He didn’t belong here. And he never would, no matter how much Rey accepted him. Even if her friends learned of his existence—assuming they even believed her, despite all their jokes—he would always be different, always quite literally be part of another world.

Ben had intended to stay downstairs through the whole affair, but his discomfort would only disrupt them if he stayed. So he headed upstairs, first brushing against Spike for a silent farewell, then lightly touching Rey on the shoulder, as he had done the night before when they agreed on the signal.

She shivered.

“You alright?” Finn asked.

“Yeah, just a chill."

Ben was almost up the stairs, but he didn’t even need to be in the house to recognize the energy coming from Poe. His next words were less than surprising.

“A chill, or a cold spot?”

“Oh my God, Poe.”


	11. Part 5-3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Another new chapter! "But Cocoon," you might be saying, "so soon after the last one?" Yes! Just a special treat for Valentine's. :)  
> And believe me, this one's even more fun than the last!

Ben did his best to zone out for the rest of the time Rey’s friends were over. It felt like a month of listening to muffled laughter and semi-intelligible shouts. The house was too loud, too warm, too alive. It was… it was how it should be.

Still, the relief he felt when the last car left the driveway was almost pathetic.

He didn’t hear Rey at all for a while, but he wasn’t too concerned. He could feel her, lingering by the bookshelf where she could see out the window. She didn’t move for a while. Neither did he.

“Ben?”

He was downstairs in a blink.  _ “I’m here. It sounded like you enjoyed yourself.” _

She startled a bit at his voice, but no one other than him would have picked it up. Every time they parted, the return was easier for her. “Yeah, I did. I always do, just, you know, it was different to have it at my house.”

_ “I imagine.” _

“The worst part is going to be cleaning all this up.” Rey nodded back toward the kitchen, where indeed, a pile of dishes waited for her. “And before you say anything,” she continued, “they offered to help, but it’s like nine o’clock and I was ready for them to go. It’s easier to spend time with people if you have an escape route.”

She couldn’t see him raising his eyebrow. He wasn’t sure he even had an eyebrow to raise, but it certainly felt that way.  _ “You’re even more of an introvert than I thought.” _

Rey snorted. “I’m not usually, honest. It’s just been a long, weird few years. Sometimes it’s easier to handle it all myself.”

_ “You don’t have to. I think it’s pretty clear that they would help you if you asked. I… I would help, if you could think of a way a dead man could help you. You’re not alone, Rey.” _

This sentiment seemed to surprise her, which didn’t surprise  _ him _ in the slightest. Asking for help wasn’t something that she did, as far as he’d seen. Not that he could judge. But he meant what he said, if she asked for his help, he’d do everything in his power to make things better, even if only marginally. She was the only person who knew he existed, it would be the least he could do.

Rey tapped her fingers against the wall behind her; rhythmless, but rhythmic at the same time. “Ben… the only help I need right now is with those dishes, and I don’t think that’s something you can do.”

Of course, it wasn’t, but he could keep her company. He followed behind her to the kitchen, lingering in the doorway as she ran the sink, tested the water, drowned a respectable glob of dish soap. She sighed and leaned against the counter while the sink filled with bubbles.

“I’m sorry. I appreciate your offer to help, really.”

_ “You didn’t offend me, Rey, don’t worry about it.” _

“Alright, well… still.” She began to pile dishes into the sink. “Thank you.”

_ “You’re welcome.” _

Seemingly uncomfortable with the idea of silence this time, Rey began to relay to him much of the conversation he’d missed after he went upstairs. As expected, Poe didn’t let the “haunted house” thing go for entirely too long, but it didn’t sound like Rose joined in as much as he would have expected, considering she believed it, too. She was probably more perceptive about how it made Rey feel. She told him that it sounded like Finn was going to be promoted at his job—though what that job actually was, she didn’t say. In all honesty, she’d probably told him before, but he tended not to fully listen when she talked about her friends. He was very glad that she had actual, living people to talk to, but he would never speak to them, why spend time memorizing details about their lives? Though now that he thought about it, it wasn’t very kind to Rey to behave that way.

Ironically, while he contemplated his behavior, he missed some of what she said. When he tuned in again, she was back on her truly haunted house.

“--was so weird. Was that you?”

_ “Excuse me?” _

Rey threw a curious look in his direction before getting back to her dishes. “The noise we heard upstairs, was that you? It sounded like something got knocked over, it started Poe off on his ghost stuff again.”

_ “I don’t recall hearing a noise,” _ Ben replied,  _ “it wasn’t me.” _

“Huh…”

He felt himself shifting, although he had no body to shift. Just like everything else he swore he felt.  _ “I know you have your reasons, but I still wonder why you don’t just tell them about me. I can speak, I can move objects, sort of. I can touch things. We could prove what you say.” _

Rey shook her head, accidentally slopping soapy water over the edge of the sink at the same time. “Look, I know Poe likes to tell his ghost stories, but if I told them I was talking to one, even with proof, they’d think I was mad.”

_ “It is really so bad to be a little mad?” _

His inadvertent rhyme brought a short laugh out of her. “Well, maybe not, but-”

A plate clattered onto the ground, spraying drops of water in all kinds of directions. Rey seemed to freeze, but suddenly there was a knife in her hand, still dirty from dinner, and something wild gleaming in her eyes.

“Who are you?” she spat. “How did you get in here?”

Ben looked around, confused, trying to find this unseen intruder. He hadn’t heard or sensed anything, but he was distracted by Rey, so it’s possible he missed something. Was that the sound she heard earlier? Had someone possibly broken in from upstairs somehow? Why?

_ “I don’t see anyone, Rey.” _ he said quietly.  _ “Are you alright?” _

Once again, she flinched at his words, but not like last time. This wasn’t a small, instinctual tick, easily overlooked. This was a shudder that reached her bones and crawled through her skin. Her fingers tightened around the knife as her eyes widened.

She swallowed hard. “Ben?”

She was looking at him. There was no question of it. Not like other times, where she had come so close that he thought she might be able to see him. This was… like the puppy.

_ “Rey, can you… can you see me?” _

Very slowly, her every move fueled with disbelief, Rey put down the knife, and nodded. “I thought you said you… didn’t really have a body, but you’re right there, you… you’re real.”

Maybe he should have been more offended that she was only now convinced of his existence, but he wasn’t. There was always the real, albeit slight, possibility that she truly was mad and that their whole relationship was just in her head, a manifestation of her loneliness. Sometimes, even he needed convincing. But she was right, he was here, he could feel it now. He still wasn’t fully...condensed, for lack of a better word, but there was a bit of hair in front of his eyes—eyes!—and when he tried to move what felt like his arm, what came into his sight, but a hand, and said arm covered in a dark sleeve.

About a thousand thoughts and feelings passed behind Rey’s eyes before she smiled, unable to contain the absurdity of this whole thing. “You’re taller than I thought.”

Ben snorted, smiling himself. Maybe. It was difficult to tell. He just hoped he wasn’t scowling.  _ “If that’s the first thing you notice, I guess I don’t look like a hideous monster.” _

“No, of course not,” Rey said, wiping her still-wet hands off on her pants, “you just don’t look like I expe- well, I don’t know what I expected.”

Whether she realized it or not, she was standing further away from him, almost to the wall. But again, he couldn’t be bothered by her behavior. Speaking with a disembodied voice was one thing, but being able to connect that voice to a face—one that was standing suddenly in your kitchen—must be extremely disorienting.

The thought crossed his mind… what if this was permanent? He couldn’t un-learn the ability to speak, even though he’d had to practice to make his voice stronger. What if this time he’d skipped the practice and advanced all the way to being visible? Could he go back from this? Would he be stuck this way forever, unable to hide, but still stuck in this home? What would happen to him then? What would happen to Rey?

He wondered if she was thinking the same thing. But he also wondered…

_ “So, what  _ do _ I look like?” _

She looked up at him. _ At  _ him. That was going to take some getting used to. “You still don’t remember?”

_ “No. I mean, I saw a younger version of myself in a sort of vision, or echo, but that memory is fuzzy now. I’m not sure it was ever clear to begin with.” _

“Alright, well…” Rey leaned against the wall, now patting her hands on her legs. “You’re a ghost, so I guess you can’t just look in a mirror, can you?”

Ben shrugged, and she could see it.  _ “Probably not. Do you even have a mirror?” _

“Of course I have a mirror,” she gestured vaguely above him, “upstairs, in the bathroom.” But they both knew they weren’t going to go up there.

_ “Well,” _ Ben wiggled his fingers at his side, mostly because he could. He wanted to test out this new form, later, if he stayed this way.  _ “Just tell me what you see.” _

She sort of laughed awkwardly, a snort caught in her nose. “I, uh, I don’t know, you look like a guy. A tall guy, you know, with a… face?”

_ “Ah, so what you’re saying is that I don’t look like a monster, but I  _ do _ have a face. That’s good to know.” _

They both broke out in laughter this time, which cut the awkwardness some. What he’d said wasn’t particularly funny, but it seemed that they both needed a laugh. What a day, what a life they’ve had in this house, together but not, getting closer but never close enough as he remembered more, as she got used to having a dead man for a roommate.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I just don’t know where to start.”

Ben shook his head.  _ “Just tell me what you see.”  _ He moved his arm up to see if he could push the hair from his face. He could.  _ “I can see that my hair is dark, but not my skin.”  _ If this even counted as skin.  _ “What about my eyes?” _

“Your eyes…” She stepped closer, trying to see. “They’re dark, too. And kind of sad, but I guess that makes sense. It’s never happy ghosts that stay behind.” She looked him over, trying to find more words. For a long moment, the only sound in the house was that of the running sink that she’d forgotten about in her surprise. “You know, you’re kind of handsome.”

Oh.  _ “Thank you.” _

Her eyes squinted, and then she pointed to somewhere around his stomach. “Your shirt, there’s a hole in it. Do you remember why?”

_ It was dark, he couldn’t breathe. The shouting had stopped but it wouldn’t go away, repeating in a loop in his mind, over and over, tormenting him because he couldn’t figure out how to make it stop before the blast. Now there were footsteps, foreign, alien. They were breaking things down the hall but then they weren’t they were coming closer they were right outside his door. _

Ben shook his head, looking to the floor.  _ “No, I… I don’t. I don’t remember much about my life.” _

“I know, but I thought maybe… well, it’s alright.” She was a lot closer now, when did that happen? Her kitchen was only a few strides long, but still. “It looks like you’ve got a scar down the side of your face, remember anything about that?”

Rey’s hand was reaching up for him, as though she’d somehow forgotten that he wasn’t human, or maybe she was wondering if she could touch him, too. He doubted it, but he couldn’t help but indulge himself a few seconds of wonder. Still, her question brought him nothing.

_ “No,” _ he said truthfully,  _ “nothing. You’d think I would, huh?” _

You’d think. You’d think he’d remember his parents, his death, anything. But all he had were bits and pieces that seemed to fit, but there was really no way to know. No one knew what happened that night. No one knew who he was.

“Yeah…”

When Rey’s hand came into contact with where his cheek should have been, she froze. This time, he felt something, felt… disconnected. Ben sighed.

_ “I’ve gone invisible again, haven’t I?” _


End file.
